The Story of Cooperstown by Birdsall, Ralph, 1871-1918

THE STORY OF COOPERSTOWN
BY
RALPH BIRDSALL
Rector of Christ Church
With Sixty-eight Illustrations from Photographs
NEW YORK,
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS,
1925
Copyright, 1917, by
Ralph Birdsall
First printing, July, 1917

Second printing, December, 1917
Third printing, August, 1920
Fourth printing, August, 1925
Printed in the United States of America
[Pg vii]
FOREWORD
The ensuing narrative is a faithful record of life in Cooperstown from the earliest times, except that the
persons and events to be described have been selected for their story-interest, to the exclusion of much that a
history is expected to contain. The dull thread of village history has been followed only in such directions as
served for stringing upon it and holding to the light the more shining gems of incident and personality to
which it led. Trivial happenings have been included for the sake of some quaint, picturesque, or romantic
quality. Much of importance has been omitted that declined to yield to such treatment as the writer had in
view. The effort has been made to exclude everything that seemed unlikely to be of interest to the general
reader. Those who seek family records, or the mention of all names worthy to be recorded in the history of the
village, will find the book wanting.
THE STORY OF COOPERSTOWN 1

The Project Gutenberg eBook of THE STORY OF COOPERSTOWN, by Ralph Birdsall.
The local history has been already three times recorded, first in 1838 by Fenimore Cooper, whose work was
brought down to date by S. T. Livermore in 1863, and by Samuel M. Shaw in 1886. While now out of print
many copies of these books are still accessible.
[Pg ix]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Indians 1
II. The Coming of the White Men 26
III. A Bypath of the Revolution 51
IV. The Beginning of the Settlement 74
V. A Village in the Making 89
VI. Old-Time Love and Religion 109
VII. Homes and Gossip of Other Days 130
VIII. The Pioneer Court Room 150
IX. Father Nash 163
X. The Immortal Natty Bumppo 174
XI. Strange Tales of the Gallows 192
XII. Solid Survivals 211
XIII. The Birthplace of Base Ball 247
XIV. Fenimore Cooper in the Village 258
XV. Mr. Justice Nelson 299
XVI. Christ Churchyard 326
XVII. From Apple Hill to Fernleigh 339
FOREWORD 2
XVIII. The Lake of Romance and Fishermen 364
XIX. Twentieth Century Beginnings 393
Village Map and Guide 432
[Pg xi]
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Cooperstown, from the northwest Joseph B. Slote Frontispiece
The Cooper Grounds Arthur J. Telfer 2
Council Rock Arthur J. Telfer 8
The Otsego Iroquois Pipe 13
At Mill Island Charles Frederick 21

Zabriskie
Joseph Brant, from the Romney portrait 52
Site of Clinton's Dam A. J. Telfer 71
Otsego Lake, from Cooperstown A. J. Telfer 78
The Oldest House Charles A. Schneider 86
William Cooper, from the Stuart portrait 91
Averell Cottage C. A. Schneider 104
The Worthington Homestead Forrest D. Coleman 110
Christ Church A. J. Telfer 127
The House at Lakelands, as originally built 131
Mrs. Wilson 133
Lakelands C. A. Schneider 137
CONTENTS 3
Pomeroy Place J. Patzig 141
Ambrose L. Jordan 151
Jordan's Home, and his Law Office C. A. Schneider 156
The Home of Robert Campbell J. B. Slote 158
Father Nash 171
Leatherstocking Monument A. J. Telfer 185
[Pg xii]Natty Bumppo's Cave C. A. Schneider 188
Riverbrink C. A. Schneider 193
Edgewater A. J. Telfer 212
Residence of W. H. Averell and Judge Prentiss C. A. Schneider 221
Woodside Hall Forrest D. Coleman 226
The Gate-Tower at Woodside Walter C. Stokes 228
Swanswick A. J. Telfer 230
Shadow Brook James W. Tucker 233
Hyde Hall A. J. Telfer 238
Hyde Clarke, from the Emmet portrait 243
A Wedding Day at Hyde A. J. Telfer 246
Base Ball on Native Soil A. J. Telfer 249
The Original House at Apple Hill (now Fernleigh) 256
Fenimore A. J. Telfer 259
Otsego Hall, from an old drawing 260
James Fenimore Cooper 263
The Chalet A. J. Telfer 265
ILLUSTRATIONS 4
The Novelist's Library, a drawing by G. Pomeroy Keese 267
A Page of Cooper's Manuscript 269
The Home of Nancy Williams C. A. Schneider 271
Three-Mile Point A. J. Telfer 282
The Call for the Indignation Meeting 284
The Cooper Screens in Christ Church F. D. Coleman 293
At Fenimore Cooper's Grave Alice Choate 297
Samuel Nelson, LL.D. 300
The Home of Justice Nelson C. A. Schneider 314
Nelson Avenue A. J. Telfer 320
[Pg xiii]Christ Churchyard, from the Rectory Alice Choate 327
The Cooper Plot, in Christ Churchyard A. J. Telfer 334
A Funeral in Christ Churchyard J. B. Slote 337
Main Street, Looking West from Fair Street, 1861 347
Fernleigh A. J. Telfer 357
Kingfisher Tower M. Antoinette Abrams 359
The Lake, From the O-te-sa-ga J. B. Slote 365
Fishermen's Shanties on the Frozen Lake A. J. Telfer 374
Hop-Picking Elizabeth Hudson 378
Map of Otsego Lake Henry L. Eckerson 381
The Susquehanna, near its Source A. J. Telfer 383
Leatherstocking Falls A. J. Telfer 387
Five-Mile Point A. J. Telfer 388
ILLUSTRATIONS 5
Mohican Canyon M. Antoinette Abrams 389
Gravelly Point A. J. Telfer 391
Bishop Potter A. F. Bradley 395
The Rectory C. A. Schneider 396
The Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of New A. J. Telfer 405

York
Byberry Cottage C. A. Schneider 407
The Clark Estate Office A. J. Telfer 409
The Lyric at Cooper's Grave J. B. Slote 420
Cooperstown, from Mount Vision A. J. Telfer 430
Map of Cooperstown H. L. Eckerson 432
[Pg 1]
ILLUSTRATIONS 6
The Story of Cooperstown
CHAPTER I
THE INDIANS
The main street of Cooperstown traverses the village in a direction generally east and west. While the street
and its shops are far superior to those of most small towns, the business centre, from which the visitor gains
his first impression, gives no hint of the quaint and rustic beauty that makes Cooperstown one of the most
charming villages in America.
Following the main street toward the east, one reaches the original part of the settlement, and the prospect is
more gratefully reminiscent of an old-time village. In summer the gateway of the Cooper Grounds opens a
pleasing vista of shaded greensward, while the cross street which runs down to the lake at this point attracts
the eye to a half-concealed view of the Glimmerglass, with the Sleeping Lion in the distance at the north.
The historical associations of the village, from the earliest times, are centered in the Cooper Grounds. Within
this space, when the first white man came, were found apple trees, in full bearing, which Indians had planted,
showing an occupation by red men in the late Iroquois period. On these grounds the first white settler, Col.
George [Pg 2]Croghan, built in 1769 his hut of logs. During the Revolutionary War it was upon this spot that
Clinton's troops were encamped for five weeks before their spectacular descent of the Susquehanna River. On
this site William Cooper, the founder of the village, built his first residence, and afterward erected Otsego
Hall, which later became the home of his son, James Fenimore Cooper, the novelist.
The Story of Cooperstown 7

The Cooper Grounds
Beyond the Cooper Grounds, on the main street, the buildings seen on either hand belong to the earlier period
of village history, except the Village Club and Library, which gracefully [Pg 3]conforms to the older style.
After passing the next cross-street, the main thoroughfare leads across the Susquehanna River, and, beyond
the bridge, becomes identified with the old road to Cherry Valley. Keeping on up the incline, one finds Mount
Vision rising before him, and begins to gain fascinating glimpses into the grounds of Woodside Hall, whose
white pillars gleam amid the pines above the Egyptian gate-tower, and whose windows, commanding the
whole length of the main street westward, reflect the fire of every sunset.
Just before reaching Woodside, one observes a road which makes off from the highway at the right, and runs
south. Opening from this road to Fernleigh-Over, and quite close to the corner, is a small iron gate that creaks
between two posts of stone. The gate opens upon a path which leads, a few paces westward, to a large,
terraced mound, well sodded, and topped by two maple trees.
Sunk into the face of this mound is a slab of granite which bears this inscription:
White Man, Greeting!
THE INDIANS 8
We, near whose bones you stand,
were Iroquois. The wide land
which now is yours was ours.
Friendly hands have given back
to us enough for a tomb.
These lines offer a fitting introduction to the story of Cooperstown. There is enough of truth and poetry in
them to touch the heart of the most [Pg 4]indifferent passer-by. No sense of pride stirs the soul of any white
man as he reads this pathetic memorial of an exiled race and its vanished empire. From this region and from
many another hill and valley the Indians were driven by their white conquerors, banished from one reservation
to another, compelled to exchange a vast empire of the forest for the blanket and tin cup of Uncle Sam's
patronage.
The mound in Fernleigh-Over is probably an Indian burial site of some antiquity. In 1874, when the place was
being graded, a number of Indian skeletons were uncovered in various parts of the grounds. The owner of the
property, Mrs. Alfred Corning Clark, caused all the bones to be collected and buried at the foot of the mound.
Some years afterward she marked the mound with the granite slab and its inscribed epitaph.
The lines were composed by the Rev. William Wilberforce Lord, D.D., a former rector of Christ Church, in
this village, once hailed by Wordsworth as the coming poet of America. He had written some noble verse, but
wilted beneath the scathing criticism of Edgar Allan Poe,[1] and after becoming a clergyman published little
poetry. This epitaph alone, however, fully justifies Dr. Lord's earlier ambition, for no poet of his time could
have included more of beauty and truth and pathos within the compass of so brief an inscription.
[Pg 5]
In a comment upon the placing of this tablet, Mrs. Clark afterward wrote: "The position of the stone is
misleading, and gives one an idea that the mound contains the bones—whereas they are buried at the foot of
the mound. I have sometimes wondered if this rather curiously shaped mound, with the two maple trees
thereon, might not contain undisturbed skeletons; and I feel sure that throughout this strip of land, which the
grading only superficially disturbed, there are many bones of the Iroquois, for in 1900, when we cut down
some trees, a skull was found in the fork of a root."
Mrs. Clark's record shows that the mound existed prior to 1874, and since this particular corner of ground was
unoccupied before that date except, for a period, by the barns and stables of Lakelands across the way, it is
reasonable to suppose that the mound was made by the Indians. While the mounds of New York State cannot
be compared in size and extent with those of the West, writers on Indian antiquities, from Schoolcraft[2]
onward, have identified as the work of red men many such formations within the Empire State. The mounds
were commonly used by the Indians as places of burial, and sometimes as sites for houses, or as
fortifications.[3] The mound in Fernleigh-Over may be reasonably regarded as a monument erected by the
Indians to the memory of their dead.
[Pg 6]
Two Indian skeletons were found in Fernleigh grounds in 1910, when a tennis court was being made, and the
skeletons of Indians have been unearthed in some other parts of the village. A concealed sentry keeps vigil not
far away from Fernleigh. The garden at the northwest corner of River and Church streets, nearly opposite to
Fernleigh, has had for many years, on the River Street side, a retaining wall. When Fenimore Cooper owned
the property this wall was his despair. For at a point above Greencrest, the wall, which then consisted of dry
field stone, could never be kept plumb, but obstinately bulged toward the east; and as often as it was rebuilt,
just so often it tottered to ruin. There was a tradition that this singular freak was caused by the spirit of an
Indian chief whose grave lay in the garden, and whose resentment toward the village improvements of a
THE INDIANS 9
paleface civilization found vigorous expression in kicking down the wall. It was at last decided to replace the
retaining wall with one of heavier proportions and more solid masonry. On tearing down the wall the tradition
of former years was recalled, for there sat the grim skeleton of an Indian, fully armed for war! The new wall
included him as before, but to this day there is a point in the wall where stone and mortar cannot long contain
the Indian spirit's wrath. This Indian sentinel was first discovered by William Cooper when River Street was
graded, and four generations of tradition in the Cooper family testified to his tutelary character.
The banks of the Susquehanna, near the village, [Pg 7]and the shores of Otsego Lake, have yielded a plentiful
harvest of Indian relics in arrow-heads and spearpoints, with an occasional bannerstone, pipe, or bit of pottery.
Often as the region has been traversed in search of relics, there seems always to be something left for the
careful gleaner; and the experienced eye, within a short walk along riverbank or lakeshore, is certain to light
upon some memento of the vanished Indian, while every fresh turning of the soil reveals some record of
savage life.
Morgan describes an Indian trail as being from twelve to eighteen inches wide, and, where the soil was soft,
often worn to a depth of twelve inches. Deeply as these trails were grooved in the earth by centuries of use, it
is to be doubted if many traces of them now remain, although over the summit of Hannah's Hill, sheltered by
thick pine woods, just west of the village, there runs toward the lake a trail, which, though long disused, is
clearly marked, and is believed to have been worn by the feet of Indians. It is indeed possible that this is a
remaining segment of the great trail from the north, which, as Morgan's map[4] shows, here touched Otsego
Lake, and bent toward the southwest. For, in 1911, a likely trace of it was found by Frank M. Turnbull while
clearing the woods on the McNamee property west of the village. In line with the trail on Hannah's Hill, and
southwest of it, were two huge hemlocks that bore upon their trunks the old wounds of blazes made as if [Pg
8]by the axes of Indians. The blazes were vertical, deeply indented, and the thick bark had grown outward and
around them, forming in each a pocket into which a man might sink his elbow and forearm. These patriarchal
trees of the forest were about four feet in diameter at the base, and on being felled showed, by count of the
rings, an age of nearly three hundred years.
THE INDIANS 10
Council Rock
When Fenimore Cooper, in The Deerslayer, describes Council Rock as a favorite meeting place of the
Indians, where the tribes resorted "to make their treaties and bury their hatchets," he claims a picturesque bit
of stage setting for his drama, [Pg 9]but also records an early tradition. This rock, sometimes called Otsego
Rock, standing forth from the water where the Susquehanna emerges from the lake, had been a favorite
landmark for the rendezvous of Indians. As one views it now, from the foot of River Street, it lifts its rounded
top not quite so high above the water as when Cooper described it in 1841. The damming of the Susquehanna
to furnish power for the village water supply has raised the whole level of Otsego Lake, and gives an artificial
fullness to the first reaches of the long river.
Whether Cooperstown stands upon the site of an old Indian village is a debated question. Richard Smith's
journal describes his visit at the foot of Otsego Lake in 1769, before the time of any considerable settlement
by white men, and makes no mention of any Indian residents of the place. He saw many Indians here, but
gives the impression that they were come from a distance to visit the Indian Agent whose headquarters lay at
the foot of Otsego Lake. On the other hand, a stray hint comes from the papers of William Cooper, among
which is a memorandum including various notes relating to population and other statistics, jotted down
apparently in preparation for a speech or article on early conditions here, and containing the item, "Old Indian
Village." A more significant record appears in the Chronicles of Cooperstown, published in 1838, in which
THE INDIANS 11
Fenimore Cooper asserts that "arrow-heads, stone hatchets, and other memorials of Indian usages, [Pg
10]were found in great abundance by the first settlers, in the vicinity of the village." In The Pioneers, his
description of Cooperstown includes, in a location to be identified with the present Cooper Grounds, fruit
trees which he says "had been left by the Indians, and began already to assume the moss and inclination of
age," when the first settlers came.
The fruit trees would indicate permanent though late occupation of this site by Indians; "stone hatchets in
great abundance" would suggest that a prehistoric village was here. But it is difficult to understand how so
little trace should now remain of the one-time "great abundance" of hatchets. Such is not the case at any other
permanent prehistoric site in the general region, where pestles and hatchets continue to be found even in
streets, as well as in yards, and well-tilled gardens.
Every few years the inhabitants of ancient villages in the east were wont, for various reasons, to build new
cabins on new ground, though not far removed from the old. Not all the sites of ancient Otesaga, if ancient
Otesaga existed, can have been covered by Cooperstown. Some fields should still produce something out of
"an abundance" of village debris. Yet only one hatchet has come, in many years, from all the foot of the
lake.[5] Many points, spear and arrow, have been found on all shores of Otsego; for beyond doubt the lake,
from very early time, was a resort for [Pg 11]aboriginal hunters and fishermen. But points indicate only camp
sites.
On the whole, by reason of the notable absence at this time of stone relics indicating permanent residence, it
seems possible that the statement concerning their original abundance was exaggerated, and there is no good
reason for supposing, on the strength of this statement alone, that there was a prehistoric village on the site of
Cooperstown. Perhaps in early times, during the contests with Southern Indians, the place lay too much in the
way of war parties. But the apple trees, concerning which there is no doubt, would indicate rather conclusively
an occupation by Indians within the historic period, which, as in the case of many another of the later villages,
might have left small trace.[6]
In 1895 two young men of Cooperstown who afterward adopted callings in other fields of science, Benjamin
White, Ph.D., and Dr. James Ferguson, conducted amateur archeological expeditions which resulted in the
discovery of a regular camp site formerly used by the Indians. This lies within the present village of
Cooperstown, on a level stretch along the west bank of the Susquehanna, in what used to be called the
Hinman lot, but now belongs to Fernleigh, a few rods south of Fernleigh House. It includes an even floor of
low land not far above the level of the river, containing a spring on its margin, and [Pg 12]forming a plot
perhaps two hundred yards in length and half as much in breadth. The ground begins thence to rise rather
steeply toward the north and west, sheltering from wind and storm the glen below, while affording points of
observation, looking up and down the stream.
The young explorers went carefully over the surface of this ground, digging to a considerable depth in some
parts, and using an ash-sifter for a thorough examination of the debris. "We found spearheads, game and war
points in large numbers," says Dr. White, "as well as drills, punches or awls, scrapers, knives, hammer-stones,
and sinkers. Deer horn, bones, and thick strata of ashes were found, the latter in one place only. Whether or no
this was the site of an Indian village, I cannot say. Altogether it must have yielded six or eight hundred
implements of various sorts. Fernleigh-Over, Riverbrink, and Lakelands yielded arrow-heads and sinkers, but
no other implements. The present site of the Country Club was a profitable field for arrow-heads."
Dr. Ferguson, referring to the same spot, writes, "I have long had an idea that there had been a small Indian
village located in what we knew as Hinman's lot. After the land was ploughed we found many arrow-heads,
awls of bone and flint, and fragments of pottery. There were several areas where fires had been located, the
soil being well baked, with mingled charcoal and burned bones. There were also about the fire sites fragments
of deer horn, bears' teeth, and much broken pottery. Spear heads were [Pg 13]rather few, sinkers and
THE INDIANS 12
hammer-stones more numerous. I never found any perfect axes, but did find fragments."
The great number of imperfect arrow-heads and flint chips found here, as well as on the flat northeast of
Iroquois Farm house, and on the low land between the O-te-sa-ga and the Country Club house, shows the
frequent occupation of these places as Indian camps.
In 1916 David R. Dorn conducted a more intensive examination of the plot explored by Dr. White and Dr.
Ferguson. His investigation revealed a site that showed two distinct layers of Indian relics, the lower and more
ancient being of Algonquin type, while the signs of later occupancy were Iroquois. At about eighteen inches
beneath the surface was found the complete skeleton of an Iroquois Indian. With the skeleton was unearthed a
pipe, of Iroquois manufacture, which Arthur C. Parker, the State archeologist, declared to be one of the most
perfect specimens known.
[Pg 14]
Taking all the evidence together, it may be asserted that the present site of Cooperstown was from ancient
times the resort of Indian hunters and fishermen, and at a later period, more than a generation before its
settlement by white men, as indicated by the size of the apple trees which they found, included a settled Indian
village.
On Morgan's map of Iroquois territory as it existed in 1720, he shows a village at the foot of Otsego Lake to
which he gives the Indian name Ote-sa-ga.[7] Our present form, Otsego, is a variant of the same original.
Morgan wrote the word in three syllables, adding the letter "e" after the "t" merely to make sure that the "o"
should be pronounced long. It seems certain that Morgan never pronounced the word as "O-te-sa-ga." This
form of the name, however, when the third syllable carries the accent and a broad "a," is [Pg 15]defensible on
the ground of its majestic euphony, for it should be permitted to take some liberties with a name that has been
spelled by high authorities in a dozen different ways.
The explanation of Otsego, or Otesaga, as signifying "a place of meeting" has been generally abandoned by
scholars, in spite of the vogue which Fenimore Cooper gave it along with the interpretation of Susquehanna as
meaning "crooked river." But as to the latter the doctors disagree, some claiming that Susquehanna, which is
THE INDIANS 13
not an Iroquois but an Algonquin word, means "muddy stream"; others, following Dr. Beauchamp, that it is a
corruption of a word meaning "river with long reaches." It must be confessed that Cooper credited the Indian
words with intelligible and appropriate meanings, so that, in the absence of agreement among the specialists,
the interpretations which he made popular will continue to satisfy the ordinary thirst for this sort of
knowledge.
Assuming the existence of an Indian village on the present site of Cooperstown, before the coming of the
white man, the question of the probable character of its inhabitants opens another field of study. Most of the
relics found in this region belong to the Algonquin type. On the other hand Otsego is an Iroquois word, and it
seems to be generally agreed that the Otsego region was included, in the historic period, in the possessions of
the Iroquois, as the league of the Five Nations was called by the French. The league included the Mohawks,
Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayugas, and [Pg 16]Senecas; and took in also, in the eighteenth century, as the sixth
nation, the Tuscaroras.[8] While the village at the foot of the lake would properly be called Mohawk, owing
obedience to the council of the original Mohawk towns, it might well have been composed largely of Indians
from other tribes. Fragments of shattered tribes found refuge with the Iroquois in the latter days. Some were
adopted; some stayed on sufferance. The Minsis, a branch of the Delawares, as well as the Delawares proper,
were allowed to occupy the southern part of the Iroquois territory. It will be recalled, in this connection, that
Cooper's favorite Indian heroes, Chingachgook and Uncas, are of Delaware stock.
It is quite possible that, near the beginning of the eighteenth century—basing the date, among other things, on
the appearance of the apple trees when the first white man came—there was a cosmopolitan Indian
community at the foot of Otsego Lake. Besides Mohawks, there would have been included Oneidas, their
nearest neighbors on the west; and probably Delawares, or Mohicans. There might have been also some
one-time prisoners, adopted by the Iroquois, but belonging originally to distant nations.[9]
All writers on the history of the Eastern Indians agree in assigning the highest place to the Iroquois. Parkman
asserts that they afford [Pg 17]perhaps an example of the highest elevation which man can reach without
emerging from the primitive condition of the hunter. Morgan declares that in the width of their sway they had
reared the most powerful empire that ever existed in America north of the Aztec monarchy. The home country
of the Iroquois included nearly the whole of the present State of New York, but at the era of their highest
military supremacy, about 1660, they made their influence felt from New England to the Mississippi, and
from the St. Lawrence to the Tennessee. Within this league, the tribal territory of the Mohawks extended to
the Hudson River and Lake Champlain on the east, northward to the St. Lawrence, and westward to a
boundary not easily determined, but which included Otsego Lake. In the great league of the Iroquois the name
of the Mohawk nation always stood first, and of all the Iroquois nations they were the most renowned in war.
Joseph Brant, whom John Fiske calls the most remarkable Indian known to history, was a Mohawk chief.
Although the field of Iroquois influence was so wide, and their military fame so great, it is a mistake to
imagine that the forests of their time were thickly peopled with red men, or that they were perpetually at war.
The entire population of the Iroquois throughout what is now the State of New York probably never numbered
more than 20,000 souls. Of these the whole Mohawk nation counted only about 3,000, grouped in small [Pg
18]villages over their wide territory.[10] The avowed object of the Iroquois confederacy was peace. By means
of a great political fraternity the purpose was to break up the spirit of perpetual warfare which had wasted the
Indian race from age to age.[11] To a considerable degree this purpose was realized. After the power of the
Iroquois had become consolidated, their villages were no longer stockaded, such defences having ceased to be
necessary.
Otsego has witnessed other aspects of Indian life than those of war and the chase. The Iroquois were
agriculturists, and they, or rather their women, cultivated not only fruit trees, but corn, melons, squash,
pumpkins, beans, and tobacco.[12] They had other human interests also, not unlike our own. As the young
people grew up amid sylvan charms that are wont to stir romantic feelings in the heart of youth to-day, one is
THE INDIANS 14
tempted to imagine the trysts in the wood, the flirtations, the courtships, among Indian braves and dusky
maidens, that touched life with tender sentiment in the days of the red man's glory. During many summers
before the white man came the breath of nature sighing through the pines of Otsego, the winding river
murmuring lovelorn secrets to the flowers that nodded on its margin, the moon rising over Mount Vision and
shedding its splendor upon the lake, were subtle influences in [Pg 19]secret meetings between men and
maidens, in whispered vows beneath the trees, in courtships on the border of the Glimmerglass, in lovemaking
along the shores of the Susquehanna.
The greater part of the Iroquois were allies of the British in the Revolutionary War, although some Mohawks
remained neutral, and most of the Oneidas and Tuscaroras became engaged on the side of the Americans. It is
not strange that, in a war whose causes they could not understand, the Iroquois should have been loyal to the
King of England, with whom their alliances had been made for nearly two centuries. The Indians had nothing
to gain in this war, and everything to lose. They lost everything, and after the war were thrown upon the
mercies of the victorious Americans. The Iroquois confederacy came to an end, and few of the Mohawks ever
returned to the scene of their council fires, or to the graves of their ancestors.[13]
Many friendly relationships were established between the white men and the Indians, both before and after the
Revolutionary War. In 1764 there was a missionary school of Mohawk Indian boys at the foot of Otsego Lake
under the instruction of a young Mohawk named Moses, who had been educated at a missionary institution for
Indians at Lebanon. A report of one of the missionaries, the Rev. J. C. Smith, written at this time, gives a
glimpse of the Indians as they came [Pg 20]under civilizing influence on the very spot where Cooperstown
was afterward to flourish:
"I am every day diverted and pleased with a view of Moses and his school, as I can sit in my study and see
him and all his scholars at any time, the schoolhouse being nothing but an open barrack. And I am much
pleased to see eight or ten and sometimes more scholars sitting under their bark table, some reading, some
writing and others studying, and all engaged to appearances with as much seriousness and attention as you
will see in almost any worshipping assembly and Moses at the head of them with the gravity of fifty or three
score."[14]
Miss Susan Fenimore Cooper, daughter of the novelist, says that for some years after the village was
commenced, Mill Island was a favorite resort of the Indians, who came frequently in parties to the new
settlement, remaining here for months together. Mill Island lies in the Susquehanna a short distance below
Fernleigh, near the dam, where the river reaches out two arms to enclose it, and with so little effort that it is
difficult to distinguish the island from the mainland. In the early days of the village the island was covered
with woods, and the Indians chose it for their camp, in preference to other situations. Miss Cooper thinks it
may have been a place of resort to their fishing and hunting parties when the country was a wilderness. In
Rural Hours, writing in 1851, she gives a curious description of a visit [Pg 21]made at Otsego Hall by some
Indians who had encamped at Mill Island. There were three of them,—a father, son, and grandson,—who
made their appearance, claiming a hereditary acquaintance with the master of the house, Fenimore Cooper.
THE INDIANS 15
C. F. Zabriskie
THE INDIANS 16
At Mill Island
"The leader and patriarch of the party," says Miss Cooper, "was a Methodist minister—the Rev. Mr.
Kunkerpott. He was notwithstanding a full-blooded Indian, with the regular copper-colored complexion, and
high cheek bones; the outline of his face was decidedly Roman, and his long, gray hair had a wave which is
rare among [Pg 22]his people; his mouth, where the savage expression is usually most strongly marked, was
small, with a kindly expression about it. Altogether he was a strange mixture of the Methodist preacher and
the Indian patriarch. His son was much more savage than himself in appearance—a silent, cold-looking man;
and the grandson, a boy of ten or twelve, was one of the most uncouth, impish-looking creatures we ever
beheld. He wore a long-tailed coat twice too large for him, with boots of the same size. The child's face was
very wild, and he was bareheaded, with an unusual quantity of long, black hair streaming about his head and
shoulders. While the grandfather was conversing about old times, the boy diverted himself by twirling around
on one leg, a feat which would have seemed almost impossible, booted as he was, but which he nevertheless
accomplished with remarkable dexterity, spinning round and round, his arms extended, his large black eyes
staring stupidly before him, his mouth open, and his long hair flying in every direction, as wild a looking
creature as one could wish to see."
After the period of which Miss Cooper writes, Indians were even more rarely seen in Cooperstown, and their
visits soon ceased altogether. It is a far cry from the Chingachgook and Uncas whom Fenimore Cooper
imagined to the Rev. Mr. Kunkerpott and other Indians whom his daughter saw and described. So much so
that Cooper has been accused of creating, in his novels, a sort of Indians which never existed either here or
elsewhere. There is no doubt, however, that [Pg 23]he studied carefully such Indians as were in his day to be
found, and had some basis of fact for the qualities which he imparted to the Indians of his imagination. Miss
Cooper says that her father followed Indian delegations from town to town, observing them carefully,
conversing with them freely, and was impressed "with the vein of poetry and of laconic eloquence marking
their brief speeches."
Brander Matthews says that if there is any lack of faithfulness in Cooper's presentation of the Indian character,
it is due to the fact that he was a romancer, and therefore an optimist, bent on making the best of things. He
told the truth as he saw it, and nothing but the truth; but he did not tell the whole truth. Here Cooper was akin
to Scott, who chose to dwell only on the bright side of chivalry, and to picture the merry England of Richard
Lionheart as a pleasanter period to live in than it could have been in reality. Cooper's red men are probably
closer to the actual facts than Scott's black knights and white ladies.[15]
Cooper himself comes to the defense of his Indians in the preface of the Leather-Stocking Tales. "It is the
privilege of all writers of fiction," he declares, "more particularly when their works aspire to the elevation of
romances, to present the beau-ideal of their characters to the reader. This it is which constitutes poetry, and to
suppose that the red man is to be represented only in the squalid misery or in the degraded moral state that [Pg
24]certainly more or less belongs to his condition, is, we apprehend, taking a very narrow view of an author's
privileges. Such criticism would have deprived the world of even Homer."
Our early history has been less sympathetic toward the Indian. The story of the massacre which occurred at
Cherry Valley, not many miles from Cooperstown, in 1778, although the Tories who took part in it were quite
as savage as their Indian allies, has made memorable the darker side of Indian character. But although many
innocent victims were exacted by his revenge both here and elsewhere, it was not without cause that the
Indian resorted to bloody measures against the whites. Americans of to-day can well afford a generous
appreciation of the once powerful race who were their predecessors in sovereignty on this continent. The
league of the Iroquois is no more, but in the Empire State of the American Republic the scene of their ancient
Indian empire remains. It is left for the white man to commemorate the Indian who made no effort to
perpetuate memorials of himself, erected no boastful monuments, and carved no inscriptions to record his
many conquests. Having gained great wealth by developing the resources of a land which the Indians used
THE INDIANS 17
only as hunting grounds, the white man may none the less appreciate the lofty qualities of a race of men who,
just because they felt no lust of riches, never emerged from the hunter state, but found the joy of life amid
primeval forests.
The League of the Iroquois has had a strange [Pg 25]history, which is part of the history of America—a
history which left no record, except by chance, of a government that had no archives, an empire that had no
throne, a language that had no books, a citizenship without a city, a religion that had no temple except that
which the Great Spirit created in the beginning.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Poe. Works, "William W. Lord," Vol. vii, p. 217 (Amontillado Ed). Edmund Clarence Stedman, in his
Poets of America, p. 41, 123, champions Lord.
[2] Notes on the Iroquois, Henry R. Schoolcraft, Chap. vi.
[3] Major J. W. Powell, The Forum, January, 1890.
[4] Lewis H. Morgan's map, 1851, in the League of the Iroquois.
[5] From Fernleigh garden, near the river, 1895.
[6] These opinions are quoted from a communication kindly written by Willard E. Yager, of Oneonta.
[7] Ote-sa-ga was probably derived, by transposition very common in like case, from the first map name of
Ostega (Ostaga), 1770-1775. Dr. Beauchamp sought to derive this from "otsta," a word for which Schoolcraft
was his authority, and which was supposed to be Oneida for "rock," the Mohawk form "otsteara." But
Schoolcraft, as Beauchamp himself elsewhere shows (Indian Names, p. 6), sometimes took liberties with
original Indian forms of words. The Mohawk word for "rock" is "ostenra"; the Oneida would be "ostela." The
first with the locative terminal "ga," gives "ostenraga"; the second, "ostelaga." Both are far removed from
"Ostaga." Ostaga is more naturally derived from the Mohawk "otsata," or "osata," both which forms occur in
Bruyas. Otsataga, by elision, readily becomes Otstaga, and again Ostaga. The change is even simpler with
Osataga. The meaning of Ostaga, thus explained, would be "place of cloud," by extension "place of
storm"—in contrast, perhaps, with the little lakes, which were waiontha, "calm." (Bruyas, 64).—Willard E.
Yager.
[8] League of the Iroquois, Lewis H. Morgan, Lloyd's Ed., Vol. I, p. 93.
[9] Yager.
[10] The Old New York Frontier, Francis W. Halsey, 16. League of the Iroquois, II. 227.
[11] League of the Iroquois, I. 87.
[12] do., I. 249-251.
[13] The Old New York Frontier, 150.
[14] The Old New York Frontier, 75, 160.
[15] Address at the Cooperstown Centennial.
THE INDIANS 18
[Pg 26]
CHAPTER II
THE COMING OF THE WHITE MEN

Within six years after Hendrik Hudson sailed up the river which bears his name, and some five years before
the Pilgrim fathers landed at Plymouth, the first white men looked upon Otsego Lake, and saw the wooded
shore upon which Cooperstown now stands. It was in 1614, or in the year following, that two Dutchmen set
out from Fort Orange (Albany) to explore the fur country, and crossing from the Mohawk to Otsego Lake,
proceeded down the Susquehanna.[16] From this time, first under the Dutch, then under English rule, traders
came frequently to the foot of Otsego Lake. Soon after the traders, Christian missionaries ventured into the
wilderness, ministering at first chiefly to the Indians. Later came the first settlers.
That the influence of traders was not always helpful to Christian missionaries is illustrated by an incident in
the missionary journey of the Rev. Gideon Hawley, a Presbyterian divine, who, with some zealous
companions, came from New England to preach to the Indians of the [Pg 27]Susquehanna in 1753. They
reached the river at a point where was a small Indian settlement near the present village of Colliers, seventeen
miles below Cooperstown. Here they were joined by a trader named George Winedecker, who had come
down from Otsego Lake with a boat-load of goods, including rum, to supply the Indian villages down the
river. During the night the red men, full of Winedecker's rum, became embroiled in a murderous orgy. The
missionaries were awakened by the howling of the Indians over their dead, and in the morning saw Indian
women skulking in the bushes, hiding guns and hatchets, for fear of the intoxicated Indians who were drinking
deeper. "Here, in one party, were missionaries with the Bible and a trader with the rum—the two gifts of the
white man to the Indian."[17]
Susquehanna lands were first conveyed to white men by the Indians in 1684 as a part of a treaty of alliance
with the English, although the Indians retained the right to live and hunt on the river. The granting of land
titles by the Provincial government began not long afterward.[18] The first recorded patent on Otsego Lake
was obtained in 1740 by John J. Petrie at the northern end. John Groesbeck, an officer of the court of
chancery, acquired in 1741 a patent lying northeast of the lake, including what afterward became the Clarke
property and the site of Hyde Hall. Nearly the whole east side of the lake, with the present [Pg 28]Lakelands
tract just east of the Susquehanna at its source, was covered by the patent which Godfrey Miller obtained in
1761, and upon which, according to the journal of Richard Smith, twelve persons were resident eight years
later.[19]
Early in the eighteenth century it is probable that traders were from time to time resident at the foot of Otsego,
but the first attempt toward a permanent settlement on the present site of Cooperstown was made by John
Christopher Hartwick in 1761. In that year Hartwick obtained from the Provincial government a patent to the
lands which, southwest of Cooperstown, still perpetuate his name, and began a settlement at the foot of
Otsego Lake under the misapprehension that the site was included in his patent. It was not long before
Hartwick discovered his error, and withdrew to the proper limits of his tract, but this attempt to found a
village upon the spot which William Cooper afterward selected connects with the history of Cooperstown a
unique character and memorable name.
Hartwick, who was born in Germany in 1714, came to America at about thirty years of age as a missionary
preacher, and in his time was as famous for his eccentricities, as he afterward became for his pious
benefactions. He held some settled charges, but, except for twelve years at Rhinebeck, he seems for the most
part to have been a wandering preacher, and the records of his pastorates extend from Philadelphia to Boston,
CHAPTER II 19
[Pg 29]and from Virginia and Maryland to the distant coast of Maine.
If Hartwick would not be long tied down to a settled pastorate, he was even more fearful of matrimonial
bondage, and shunned women as a plague. It was not an uncommon thing for him, if he saw that he was about
to meet a woman in the road, to cross over, or even to leap a fence, in order to avoid her. On one occasion
when he was disturbed in preaching by the presence of a dog, he exclaimed with much earnestness that dogs
and children had better be kept at home, and it would not be much matter, he added, if the women were kept
there too![20] Seeking shelter one night at a log hut not far from the present Hartwick village, he was
cheerfully received by the occupants, a man and his wife, who gave up to their guest the one bed in the only
bedroom, and stretched themselves for the night upon the floor before the kitchen fire. The night grew bitter
cold, and the wife, awaking, bethought her of the guest, whether he might not be too lightly covered. She went
silently to his room, and spread upon his bed a part of her simple wardrobe. Hartwick promptly arose, dressed
himself, made his way out of the house to the stable, saddled his horse, and rode away in the darkness.
His contemporaries agree in representing Hartwick as slovenly in his habits, often preaching in his blanket
coat, and not always with the cleanest [Pg 30]linen; eccentric in his manners, curt, and at times irritable in his
intercourse with others—an exceedingly undesirable addition to the social and domestic circle, so that his
hosts were accustomed to tell him plainly, at the beginning of a visit, "You may stay here so many days, and
then you must go."[21] In some quarters his visits were dreaded because of his excessively long prayers at
family worship.[22]
One may dwell without malice upon the eccentricities of this singular man, for they are qualities that set him
forth from his more staid contemporaries, without detracting from the virtues which gave permanence to his
work. Hartwick was a lover of God and men. Although rough and unpolished, he was a man of learning, being
well versed in theology, and as familiar with the Latin language as with his own.
The great purpose of Hartwick's career was the founding of a community for the promotion of religion and
education, the building in the wilderness of a Christian city whose halls of learning should influence the
coming ages. The roving life that brought Hartwick into contact with the Indians awakened his desire to
Christianize and educate them, and the influence which he gained among them opened the way, through the
acquirement of land, for the carrying out of his favorite project. The patent that he obtained from the
Provincial government in 1761 covered a tract of land, substantially the present town of [Pg 31]Hartwick,
which he had purchased from the Indians for one hundred pounds in 1754. In settling the land Hartwick
required each tenant to agree to a condition in the lease by which the tenant became Hartwick's parishioner,
and acknowledged the authority of Hartwick, or his substitute, as "pastor, teacher, and spiritual counsellor."
Owing to his desultory business methods and the weight of advancing years, Hartwick after a time found
himself unequal to the management of this estate, and in 1791 William Cooper, the founder of Cooperstown,
became his agent, with authority to dispose of the property to tenants. By this arrangement Hartwick was cut
off from his original design of being the spiritual director of his tenants, and came to the end of his life
without building the city of which he dreamed.
Hartwick's last will and testament, however, shows that he never abandoned his design, but determined that it
should be carried out after his death. The will is one of the most curious documents ever penned, a mixture of
autobiography, piety, and contempt of legal form. A lawyer to whom he submitted it pronounced it "legally
defective in every page, and almost in every sentence." But Hartwick's only amendment of it was to add a
perplexing codicil to seven other codicils which already had been appended.[23] The will provides for the
laying out of a regular town, closely built, to be called the New Jerusalem, with buildings and hall for a
seminary.
[Pg 32]
THE COMING OF THE WHITE MEN 20

Hartwick died in 1796, in his eighty-third year. The task of administering the estate according to the will was
found to be almost hopeless. The executors, aided by a special act of legislature, set about to carry out its
evident spirit. Preliminary to the establishment of a seminary, the executors sent the Rev. John Frederick
Ernst, a Lutheran minister, to Hartwick patent, to preach to the inhabitants, and to assist in the education of
their youth. In connection with this work Mr. Ernst came to Cooperstown in 1799, held religious services in
the old Academy, on the present site of the Universalist church, and had some youngsters of the village under
his instruction. His descendants lived in Cooperstown for more than a century after him.
The main building of Hartwick Seminary was erected in 1812, at the present site, near the bank of the
Susquehanna River, about five miles southward of Cooperstown, and some four miles eastward from
Hartwick village. The school was opened in 1815, and received from the legislature a charter in 1816. It is the
oldest theological school in the State of New York, and the oldest Lutheran theological seminary in America.
In addition to being a theological school, Hartwick Seminary is now devoted to general education, and
includes among its pupils not only boys, but, in spite of the prejudice of its founder, young women.
Among the original trustees named in the charter of Hartwick Seminary was the Rev. Daniel [Pg 33]Nash, the
first rector of Christ Church, Cooperstown. Judge Samuel Nelson, and Col. John H. Prentiss, of Cooperstown,
were afterward trustees for many years, and in their time there was among the people of this village a lively
interest in Hartwick Seminary, the literary exercises at the end of each scholastic year being largely attended
by visitors from Cooperstown. It is significant of the close relation which formerly existed between the two
villages that the street which runs westward from the Presbyterian church in Cooperstown, now called Elm
Street, was at one time known to the inhabitants as "the Hartwick Road."
Local history has wronged[24] the memory of John Christopher Hartwick by the oft repeated statement that he
committed suicide. It is true that a man named Christianus Hartwick took his own life in 1800, and that his
grave lies in Hinman Hollow, only a few miles from Hartwick Seminary. But John Christopher Hartwick,
after whom the town and seminary are named, died a natural death at Clermont, N. Y., four years before the
suicide.
A wanderer in life, Hartwick after his death was long in quest of a peaceful grave. His remains were first
buried in the graveyard of the Lutheran church in East Camp. Two years later, in accordance with the wish
expressed in Hartwick's will, the body was removed and entombed beneath the pulpit of Ebenezer church, [Pg
34]at the corner of Pine and Lodge streets, in Albany, deposited in a stone coffin, secured by brickwork, and
covered with an inscribed slab of marble. In 1869, when the church was rebuilt, the body was removed to the
public cemetery in Albany. When this cemetery was converted into Washington Park, Hartwick's body was
transferred to the lot of the First Lutheran church in the Albany Rural Cemetery on the Troy road, where his
dust is now contained in an unknown and forgotten grave. The board of trustees of Hartwick Seminary
afterward ordered that Hartwick's remains should be disinterred and brought for burial to the town to which he
gave his name, but the remains could not be found.
The marble slab that once covered the body of Hartwick in Ebenezer church lay for many years beneath the
basement floor of the First Lutheran church, which succeeded the older building. In 1913 this relic of
Hartwick's sepulchre was sent to the seminary which he founded, where it occupies once more a place of
honor. Besides Hartwick's name, and the record of his birth and death, the marble bears, inscribed in German,
this sentiment:
Man's life, in its appointed limit,

Is seventy, is eighty years;
But care and grief and anguish dim it,
However joyous it appears.
The winged moments swiftly flee,

And bear us to eternity.
The village of Hartwick is distantly connected with another religious movement which the [Pg 35]founder of
Hartwick Seminary would have viewed with the utmost abhorrence. In 1820, and for several years thereafter,
first in the house of John Davison, and afterward in Jerome Clark's attic, lay an old trunk containing the
closely handwritten pages of a romance entitled The Manuscript Found, by the Rev. Solomon Spaulding. This
was written in 1812, in Conneaut, Ashtabula county, Ohio, where the exploration of earth mounds containing
skeletons and other relics fired Spaulding's imagination, and suggested the character of his tale. It was written
in Biblical style, and for the purpose of the romance was presented as a translation from hieroglyphical
writing upon metal plates exhumed from a mound, to which the author had been guided by a vision. It
purported to be a history of the peopling of America by the lost tribes of Israel. Spaulding frequently read the
manuscript to circles of admiring friends, and afterward carried it to Pittsburgh, leaving it, in the hope of
having it published, in the care of a printer named Patterson. The manuscript was finally rejected. Spaulding
died, and in 1820 his widow married John Davison of Hartwick, to which place the old trunk containing her
first husband's manuscript was sent.
In 1823 Joseph Smith gave out that he had been directed in a vision to a hill near Palmyra, New York, where
he discovered some gold plates curiously inscribed, and containing a new revelation. This supposed revelation
he published in 1830 as the "Book of Mormon."
Mormonism flourished and moved westward. [Pg 36]In the course of time a Mormon meeting was held in
Conneaut, Ohio, and out of curiosity was largely attended by the townspeople. Some readings were given
from the Book of Mormon, and certain of the hearers were astonished at the similarity between Joseph Smith's
book and The Manuscript Found, which Solomon Spaulding had read aloud to friends in the same town many
years before. They recognized the same peculiar names, unheard of elsewhere, such as Mormon, Maroni,
Lamenite, and Nephi. It was learned, it is said, that Smith had closely followed Spaulding's story, adding only
his own peculiar tenets about marriage, and inventing the theory of the great spectacles by means of which he
professed to have deciphered the mysterious characters.
Spaulding's friends raised a question which has never been cleared up and was at last forgotten. It was pointed
out that Sidney Rigdon, who figured as a preacher and as an adviser of Smith among the first of the "Latter
Day Saints," happened to have been an employé in Patterson's printing office in Pittsburgh during the very
period when Spaulding's manuscript was there awaiting approval or rejection. But the matter was never
brought to a definite issue, and nothing more came of it except a rather curious episode. Mrs. Davison
removed from Hartwick about 1828, leaving the trunk in charge of Jerome Clark. In 1834 a man named
Hurlburt sought Mrs. Davison, and said that he had been sent by a committee to procure The Manuscript
Found, written by Solomon [Pg 37]Spaulding, so as to compare it with the Mormon Bible. He presented a
letter from her brother, William H. Sabine, of Onondaga Valley, upon whose farm Joseph Smith had been an
employé, requesting her to lend the manuscript to Hurlburt, in order "to uproot this Mormon fraud." Hurlburt
represented that he himself had been a convert to Mormonism, but had given it up, and wished to expose its
wickedness. On Hurlburt's repeated promise to return the work, Mrs. Davison gave him a note addressed to
Jerome Clark of Hartwick, requesting him to open the old trunk and deliver the manuscript. This was done.
Hurlburt took the manuscript, and not only did he never return it, but he never replied to any of the many
letters requesting its return. The Spaulding manuscript has utterly disappeared.[25]
The year 1768 brings another unique personage into the field of our local history. In that year the English met
the Indians at Fort Stanwix (Rome, Oneida county) in a conference which resulted in establishing a formally
acknowledged boundary between the territory of the red men and the land which the colonists had begun to
make their own. The lands of the upper Susquehanna thus became, prior to the Revolution, the extreme
western frontier of old New York, and Otsego Lake was included within English territory by a margin, at the
west, of about twenty miles. Sir William Johnson, Superintendent of Indian Affairs, conducted the
negotiations, and [Pg 38]the securing of the Fort Stanwix deed was one of the most astute accomplishments of

his long career.
An interested party to these proceedings was Sir William's deputy agent for Indian affairs, Colonel George
Croghan, who had accompanied him to the conference. Nearly twenty years before, Croghan had obtained
from the Indians a tract of land near Fort Pitt (Pittsburgh), in Pennsylvania. During this Fort Stanwix
conference which established the new frontier Croghan succeeded in getting confirmation of the former grant,
with the privilege of making an exchange for a tract of equal extent in the region now ceded to the English.
Under this agreement Croghan and certain associates afterward took up 100,000 acres of land in what are now
Otsego, Burlington, and New Lisbon townships, Otsego county.[26] And so it came about that in the next
year, 1769, Colonel George Croghan came to the foot of Otsego Lake, built him a hut, and was the first settler
on the present site of Cooperstown.
The story of the fortune and failure of Croghan, who was a remarkable and picturesque character, reads like a
romance. He so far surpassed all men of his time in genius for commerce with the Indians, and in skillful
marketing of Indian products, that Hanna calls him "The King of the Traders." Lavish in his expenditures, big
in his ventures, he made and lost fortunes with equal facility. He alternated between the height [Pg 39]of
opulence and the verge of bankruptcy. Like Sir William Johnson, Croghan had a special aptitude for making
friendships with the Indians, so that, according to his own statement, "he was in such favor and confidence
with the councils of the Six Nations that he was, in the year 1746, admitted by them as a Councillor into the
Onondaga Councill, which is the Supreme Councill of the Six Nations. He understands the Language of the
Six Nations and of several other of the Indian nations."[27]
Long before the sojourn in Otsego, Croghan had become, during his fits of prosperity, a power in the
Pennsylvania region, and probably deserved the pungently qualified praise of Hassler, who, in his Old
Westmoreland, declares that "the man of most influence in this community [Fort Pitt, or Pittsburgh] was the
fat old Trader and Indian-Agent, Colonel George Croghan, who lived on a pretentious plantation about four
miles up the Allegheny River—an Irishman by birth and an Episcopalian by religion, when he permitted
religion to trouble him."
Two documents relating to Croghan illustrate his extremes of fortune; the one a petition to protect him against
imprisonment for debt, the other a complaint against him as a monopolist of the fur trade. It seems that in
1755 Croghan had been compelled by impending bankruptcy and fear of the debtor's prison to remove from
settled parts of Pennsylvania, and to take refuge in the [Pg 40]Indian country. Here he was in great danger
from the French and their Indians, but wrote to the Governor of Pennsylvania that he was more afraid of
imprisonment for debt than of losing his scalp. At a meeting of the Pennsylvania Assembly in November,
1755, fifteen creditors of Croghan presented a petition that Croghan and his partner, William Trent, be
rendered free from debt for a space of ten years. The petition recited that there should be taken into
consideration "the great knowledge of said George Croghan in Indian affairs, his extensive influence among
them, and the service and public utility he may be of to this Province in these respects."[28] In accordance
with this petition a bill was passed by which Croghan was freed from the danger of arrest for debt, and,
although the act was vetoed by King George II three years later, Croghan evidently made profitable use of his
liberty.
On July 9, 1759, less than four years after Croghan so narrowly escaped the debtor's prison, a complaint from
Philadelphia was addressed to the Governor of Pennsylvania protesting against Croghan's policy of crushing
competitors in the trade with Indians by a control of prices in skins and peltry.[29] The complaint was signed
by the eight Provincial Commissioners for the Indian Trade newly appointed by the Assembly, including
Edward Pennington, the celebrated Quaker merchant of Philadelphia; Thomas Willing, afterward [Pg 41]a
member of the Continental Congress, and the first president of the Bank of North America, the earliest
chartered in the country; and William Fisher, who was mayor of Philadelphia just before the Revolution. Such
formidable opposition shows that Croghan, from being an object of pity to his creditors, had risen to affluence

as the head of a "trust."
Owing to his business methods, some of the Quakers were not well disposed toward Croghan. At a conference
with the Delawares and Six Nations held at Easton, in 1758, one of the Quakers present wrote home an
account of the proceedings in a tone not favorable to Croghan. "He treats them [the Indians] with liquor,"
wrote the Quaker, "and gives out that he himself is an Indian.... At the close of the conference one Nichos, a
Mohawk, made a speech.... This Nichos is G. Croghan's father-in-law."
If Croghan is to be believed, however, he was opposed to giving liquor to the Indians. While arranging for this
very conference he had written to Secretary Richard Peters of Pennsylvania, "You'll excuse boath writing and
peper, and guess at my maining, fer I have at this minnitt 20 drunken Indians about me. I shall be ruined if ye
taps are not stopt."
Although Croghan had come to America in 1741, this letter, with its "guess at my maining," and another in
which he has "lase" for "lease," suggest that, if his pronunciation may be judged from his spelling, he retained
a rich Irish brogue. Certainly his Irish wit and good nature served [Pg 42]him well in his dealing with the
Indians. He was frequently useful in outwitting the French Indian-agents, and in maintaining the friendship of
the red men for the English as against the French. General Bouquet, who seems to have detested Croghan,
wrote to General Gage, at a time when new powers had been conferred upon Indian-agents, "It is to be
regretted that powers of such importance should be trusted to a man illiterate, impudent, and ill-bred."
Nevertheless, within a few months, Bouquet wrote to Gage recommending Croghan as the person most
competent to negotiate with the Western Indians for British control of the French posts in the Illinois
country—a mission upon which Croghan was wounded, captured, and pillaged by the Indians. In 1768 the
General Assembly in Philadelphia put upon record, in a message to the Governor, a high opinion of Croghan,
referring to "the eminent services he has rendered to the Nation and its Colonies in conciliating the affections
of the Indians to the British interest."
At the end of a stormy voyage from America, being shipwrecked on the Norman coast, Croghan reached
England in February, 1764, bearing an important letter on Indian affairs from Sir William Johnson to the
Lords of Trade. One might expect to find Croghan gratified by the comforts of London life as compared with
the rough hardships of America. A scout under Washington's command, a captain of Indians under Braddock,
a border ranger upon the western frontier, a trader upon the banks of the Ohio, a pioneer in [Pg 43]many a
wilderness, Croghan had seen all kinds of hard service in the twenty-three years since he left Ireland. But in
the midst of metropolitan splendors he grew homesick for the wild life of the New World. Writing in March,
and again in April, to American friends, he expressed his disgust with the city's pride and pomp, declared that
he was sick of London and its vanities, and set forth as his chief ambition a desire to live on a little farm in
America. In the autumn of the same year Croghan shipped for the long journey across the Atlantic. It is five
years later that he appears at the foot of Otsego Lake, apparently in fulfillment of his desire to make a home
and to be the founder of a settlement.
In 1769 Richard Smith came to the Susquehanna region from Burlington, New Jersey. The immediate purpose
of his tour was to make a survey of the Otsego patent in which he, as one of the proprietors, was interested.
Smith traveled up the Hudson River to Albany, thence along the Mohawk to Canajoharie, from which point
his carefully kept journal[30] abounds in interesting allusions to Otsego:
"13th. May. ... Pursuing a S. W. Course for Cherry Valley [from Canajoharie]. We met, on their Return, Four
Waggons, which had carried some of Col. Croghan's Goods to his Seat at the Foot of Lake Otsego.... Capt.
Prevost ... is now improving his Estate at the Head of the Lake; the Capt. married Croghan's Daughter....
"14th. ... Distance from Cherry Valley to Capt. Prevost's is 9 miles.

[Pg 44]"15th. ... We arrived at Capt. Prevost's in 4 Hours, the Road not well cleared, but full of Stumps and
rugged, thro' deep blac Mould all the Way.... Mr. Prevost has built a Log House, lined with rough Boards, of
one story, on a Cove, which forms the Head of Lake Otsego. He has cleared 16 or 18 acres round his House
and erected a Saw Mill. He began to settle only in May last.... The Capt. treated us elegantly. He has several
Families seated near him....
"16th. We proceeded in Col. Croghan's Batteau, large and sharp at each end, down the Lake,... The Water of
greenish cast, denoting probable Limestone bottom; the Lake is skirted on either side with Hills covered by
White Pines and the Spruce called Hemloc chiefly. We saw a Number of Ducks, some Loons, Sea-gulls, and
Whitish coloured Swallows, the Water very clear so that we descried the gravelly Bottom in one Part 10 or 12
Feet down. The rest of the Lake seemed to be very deep; very little low Land is to be seen round the Lake. Mr.
Croghan, Deputy to Sir William Johnson, the Superintendent for Indian Affairs, is now here, and has
Carpenters and other Men at Work preparing to build Two Dwelling Houses and 5 or 6 Out Houses. His
Situation [on the site of the Cooper Grounds, within the present village of Cooperstown] commands a view of
the whole Lake, and is in that Respect superior to Prevost's. The site is a gravelly, stiff clay, covered with
towering white Pines, just where the River Susquehannah, no more than 10 or 12 yards broad, runs downward
out of the Lake with a strong Current.[31] Here we found a Body of Indians, mostly from Ahquhaga,[32]
come to pay their Devoirs to the [Pg 45]Col.; some of them speak a little English.... We lodged at Col.
Croghan's.
"23rd. ... At Col. Croghan's ... being rainy, we staid here all day.
"24th. It rained again. The Elevated Hills of this country seem to intercept the flying vapors and draw down
more moisture than more humble places.... With 3 carpenters felled a white Pine Tree and began a Canoe....
Some Trout were caught this Morng. 22 Inches long; they are spotted like ours with Yellow Bellies, yellow
flesh when boiled & wide mouths. There are Two species, the Common & the Salmon Trout. Some
Chubs were likewise taken, above a Foot in length. The other Fish common in the Lake & other Waters,
according to Information, are Pickerel, large and shaped like a Pike, Red Perch, Catfish reported to be
upwards of Two feet long, Eels, Suckers, Pike, a few shad and some other Sorts not as yet perfectly known.
The Bait now used is Pidgeon's Flesh or Guts, for Worms are scarce. The Land Frogs or Toads are very large,
spotted with green and yellow, Bears and Deer are Common.... Muscetoes & Gnats are now troublesome. We
observed a natural Strawberry Patch before Croghan's Door which is at present in bloom, we found the
Ground Squirrels and small red squirrels very numerous and I approached near to one Rabbit whose Face
appeared of a blac Colour.
"25th. We finished and launched our Canoe into the Lake. She is 32 feet 7 inches in Length and 2 Feet 4
inches broad....
"27th. ... We engaged Joseph Brant, the Mohawk, to go down with us to Aquahga. Last night a drunken Indian
came and kissed Col. Croghan and me very joyously. Here are Natives of different Nations almost
continually. They visit the Deputy Superintendent as Dogs to the Bone, for what they can get....
[Pg 46]"We found many petrified Shells in these Parts, & sometimes on the Tops of High Hills.... Col.
Croghan showed us a piece of Copper Ore, as supposed. The Indian who gave it to him said he found it on our
Tract.... Col. C says that some of his Cows were out in the Woods all last Winter without Hay, and they now
look well....
"The Col. had a Cargo of Goods arrived to-day, such as Hogs, Poultry, Crockery ware, and Glass. The settled
Indian Wages here are 4s a Day, York Currency, being Half a Dollar.

"28th. Sunday. I had an Opportunity of inspecting the Bark Canoes often used by the Natives; these Boats are
constructed of a single sheet of Bark, stripped from the Elm, Hiccory, or Chesnut, 12 or 14 Feet long, and 3 or
4 Feet broad, and sharp at each End, and these sewed with thongs of the same Bark. In Lieu of a Gunnel, they
have a small Pole fastned with Thongs, sticks across & Ribs of Bark, and they deposit Sheets of Bark in her
Bottom to prevent Breaches there. These vessels are very light, each broken and often patched with Pieces of
Bark as well as corked with Oakum composed of pounded Bark.
"The Col. talks of building a Saw Mill and Grist Mill here on the Susquehannah, near his House, and has had
a Millwright to view the Spot.
"29th. Myself, with Joseph Brant, his wife and Child, and another Young Mohawk named James, went down
in the new Canoe to our upper Corner.... This River ... is full of Logs and Trees, and short, crooked Turns, and
the Navigation for Canoes and Batteaux requires dexterity."
The household which Smith visited at the foot of Otsego Lake was an interesting one, and had some
remarkable connections. There was not only "the fat old trader, and Indian-agent, [Pg 47]Colonel George
Croghan," but also his Indian wife, daughter of the Mohawk chief Nichos, or Nickas, of Canajoharie.
Catherine,[33] the Colonel's little daughter, then ten years old, helped her Indian mother with the household
tasks, or danced in her play about the cabin door, little dreaming that she was afterward to become the third
wife of Joseph Brant, the famous chieftain who had just guided Richard Smith down the Susquehanna.
Croghan's elder daughter, Susannah, who had married Captain Augustine Prevost, was the child of Croghan's
first wife, a white woman. Capt. and Mrs. Prevost lived at the head of Otsego Lake, in a house where
Swanswick now stands. Before the coming of Prevost, a settlement had been made here as early as 1762,[34]
the earliest permanent settlement on Otsego Lake. Captain Augustine Prevost, or Major Prevost, as he
afterward became, was born at Geneva, Switzerland, in 1744, and died at the age of 77 years, at Greenville, N.
Y., where the Prevost mansion still stands. He was twice married, and had twenty-two children. Prevost was
beloved as a bosom friend and companion by Joseph Brant, and their intimacy was interrupted, much to the
Mohawk's sorrow, only when Prevost was ordered to join his regiment in Jamaica in 1772. This friendship
with Croghan's son-in-law seems to have brought the famous Mohawk chieftain as a frequent visitor to
Otsego Lake, and may account for his attachment and subsequent marriage to Croghan's [Pg 48]younger
daughter. Thus is completed the circle of intimates that gathered at Croghan's hut, on the present site of
Cooperstown, in 1769—the Irish trader; his Indian squaw; the British officer and his wife; the young
half-Indian girl; and the Mohawk warrior whose name was to become a terror to settlers throughout the
Susquehanna Valley—the same who afterward was received at court in London, who dined with Fox, Burke,
and Sheridan, was lionized by Boswell, and had his portrait painted by Romney.[35]
Croghan's attempted settlement was not a success. He began to show signs of failing health and waning
fortune. On July 18, 1769, he wrote from Lake Otsego to Thomas Wharton of Philadelphia, "Eight days ago I
was favored with yours. I should have answered it before now, but was then lying in a violent fit of the gout,
for ye first time, wh. has confin'd me to bed for 18 days, & now am only able to sit up on ye bedside." During
the next winter Croghan was in New York and Philadelphia, but in March and April, 1770, he was again at
Otsego, whence he wrote to Sir William Johnson concerning financial difficulties. In May he wrote of a
proposed journey southward for his health and business interests.
But Croghan was never in business for his health. In October he was once more on his old plantation near Fort
Pitt, where Washington, on an exploring expedition, visited him and dined [Pg 49]with him. It seems that he
was trying to persuade Washington to buy land of him in the West, and, according to Washington's surveyor,
Captain William Crawford, was using Washington's prospective purchases as an inducement to others, at the
same time not being very sure of his title, "selling any land that any person will buy of him, inside or outside
of his line."

Croghan never returned to Otsego. He mortgaged his tract of land to William Franklin, son of Benjamin
Franklin, and lost it under foreclosure in 1773. The title later passed to William Cooper and Andrew Craig,
both of Burlington, New Jersey, which was also the home of Richard Smith, who had visited Croghan at
Otsego.
Appended to one of Croghan's deeds is a map purporting to show the improvements which he had made at the
foot of the lake, but, says Fenimore Cooper, "it is supposed that this map was made for effect." When William
Cooper first visited the spot, in 1785, the only building was one of hewn logs, about fifteen feet square,
probably Croghan's hut, deserted and dismantled, standing in the space now included in the Cooper Grounds,
near the site of the present Clark Estate office. Except for the visit of Clinton's troops in 1779, the place had
been abandoned for fifteen years. The only signs of "improvements" were seen in a few places cleared of
underbrush, with felled and girdled trees, and in the remains of some log fences already falling into ruin.
Silence and desolation had fallen upon "the little [Pg 50]farm in America" upon which Croghan had dreamed
of passing his declining years.
In an inventory of the estate of Alexander Ross of Pittsburgh, 1784, appears in the record of effects a
promissory note made by George Croghan, with this appended remark: "Dead, and no Property."
FOOTNOTES:
[18] Four Great Rivers, Halsey, lvii.
[19] Four Great Rivers, 35.
[20] Henry M. Pohlman, D.D., Hartwick Seminary Memorial Volume, 1867, p. 21.
[21] Pohlman, 23.
[22] James Pitcher, D.D., Centennial Address, 1897, p. 7.
[23] Hartwick Sem. Mem., 27.
[24] History of Cooperstown, Livermore, 11.
[25] "The Book of Mormon," Scribner's Magazine, August, 1880.
[26] The Wilderness Trail, Chas. A. Hanna, II, 59, 60.
[27] The Wilderness Trail, II, 30.
[29] do., II, 20.
[30] Published in Four Great Rivers.
[31] This current is now sluggish, owing to the dam of the water works lower down the river.

[32] The largest Indian village in the Susquehanna Valley, about 50 miles in an air line from Otsego, twice as
far by water, situated on the river at a point where the present village of Windsor stands, some 14 miles
easterly from Binghamton.
[Pg 51]
CHAPTER III
A BYPATH OF THE REVOLUTION

The settlers on the New York frontier were many of them Scotch-Irish, nursing an inherited hostility to
England. The greater part of the Iroquois Indians, more particularly the Mohawks, had a sentimental regard
for the covenant which, for a century, had made the red men loyal to the British king. Here was a native
antagonism between settlers and Indians which during the Revolution partly contributed to the warfare of
torch and scalping knife that raged in the Susquehanna region.
Brant, the Mohawk chief, although himself a full-blooded Indian, known among his own people as
Thayendanegea, had become, through long association with Sir William Johnson and his friends, a king's man
and churchman. With the doctrines of the Church of England which he had embraced on becoming a
communicant, he adopted also the contempt for dissenters which was so common among churchmen. Once,
on tasting a crabapple, it is said, Brant puckered up his mouth, and exclaimed, "It is as bitter as a
Presbyterian!" While in other parts of the country many churchmen espoused the cause of American
independence, [Pg 52]it happened that in the Susquehanna region the patriots were generally Calvinists.
CHAPTER III 28
A BYPATH OF THE REVOLUTION 29

Joseph Brant
From the portrait by Romney
Another contributory cause of trouble between the Indians and frontiersmen had to do with the lands around
the Mohawk villages, concerning which there had been frequent disputes since the Fort Stanwix treaty.[36]
[Pg 53]
In May, 1777, Brant established himself with a band of Indian warriors and some Tories at Unadilla, driving
out the settlers, and serving notice upon all that they must either leave the country or declare themselves for
the English cause. At a conference held among officers of the American forces it was decided that General
Nicholas Herkimer, the military chief of Tryon county, (which then included the region that later became
Otsego county), should go to Unadilla to parley with the Indians. Herkimer, with 380 men, came down from
Canajoharie through Cherry Valley to Otsego Lake, and thence along the Susquehanna River to Unadilla,
which he reached late in June. Thus the Indian trail which passed near Council Rock was first used as the path
of the paleface warriors.
The conference at Unadilla found the Indians fully determined for the British cause, and came to an abrupt
termination, beneath darkened skies, amid a hubbub of Mohawk war-whoops and the rattle of a sudden
hailstorm that swooped down upon the assemblage. Herkimer marched his men back to Cherry Valley.[37]
Six weeks later the battle of Oriskany was fought, a victory for the militia of Tryon County, but a costly
victory, for it inflamed their hitherto lukewarm Indian enemies with the spirit of revenge, and set in motion
the forces of border warfare which during the next five years desolated [Pg 54]the frontier. The forays along
the border had a direct relation to the central conflict of the Revolutionary War. With the Indians for allies it
was the policy of the British to harry the settlers on the frontier, in order to draw away to their defense forces
that were essential to the strength of the Americans in the Hudson Valley. Aside from motives of private
vengeance among Indians and Tories, this was the military purpose which determined the burning of
Springfield, at the head of Otsego Lake, in June, 1778, and the massacre of Cherry Valley in November.[38]
To protect the frontier against further raids, an expedition was planned, consisting of two divisions: one under
General John Sullivan, which was to cross from Easton to the Susquehanna, and thence ascend the river to
Tioga Point (Athens, Pa.); the other, under General James Clinton, was to proceed from Albany up the
Mohawk to Canajoharie, crossing to Otsego Lake, and going thence down the Susquehanna to Tioga Point,
where the two divisions were to unite in a combined attack upon the Indian settlements in Western New
York.[39] This expedition involved one-third of Washington's whole army.
General Clinton's force included about 1,800 men, bringing three months' provisions and 220 boats from
Schenectady up the Mohawk to Canajoharie, where the brigade went into camp.
The twenty miles overland to Otsego Lake was [Pg 55]traversed during the latter part of June, 1779, the boats
and stores being carried in wagons, several hundred horses having been made ready for this purpose at
Canajoharie. Part of the brigade reached the lake by means of the Continental road, of which traces still
remain, leading to the shore near the mouth of Shadow Brook in Hyde Bay.[40] Here they launched their fleet
of bateaux and floated down the lake to their landing at the present site of Cooperstown. "This passage down
the lake was made on a lovely summer's day, and the surrounding hills being covered with living green, every
dash of the oar throwing up the clear, sparkling water, a thousand delighted warblers greeting them from the
shores as the response of the martial music from the boats—the whole being so entirely novel—the effect
must have been truly enchanting and picturesque."[41]

Apparently not all the regiments took the same route. Lieut. Erkuries Beatty, of the Fourth Pennsylvania
Regiment, says in his journal[42] that "the regiment marched by Cherry Valley to the lower end of the lake,"
while the baggage of the detachment went to the Springfield landing, with a proper guard. From this point,
himself being in the party, "we put the baggage on board boats," he says, "and proceeded to the lower end of
the lake, and found the regiment there before us."
[Pg 56]
During the first week in July the entire brigade had become encamped at the foot of the lake, to remain here,
as it turned out, for a period of five weeks. The present Cooper Grounds, where the Indians, long before, had
planted their apple trees, and where Colonel Croghan, in 1769, had built his hut, now became the scene of a
military encampment. Lieut. Beatty's journal describes the location of the various regiments in Camp Lake
Otsego, as it was called. Croghan's house, which stood near the site of the present Clark Estate office, was
used as a magazine, and around it was encamped a company of artillery, under Capt. Thomas Machin. Here
also the stores were gathered. On the right of the artillery, facing the lake, the Fourth Pennsylvania Regiment
was encamped, while on the left were the tents of Colonel Peter Gansevoort's Third New York Regiment. At
the latter's rear, in the second line, was the Fifth New York, under command of Col. Lewis Dubois; behind the
artillery camp lay Col. Alden's Sixth Massachusetts Regiment; and the Fourth New York, under Lieut.-Col.
Weissenfels, occupied the space at the rear of the Fourth Pennsylvania. A few Oneida Indians came with Col.
Alden's regiment and encamped on the banks of the lake, where "they all soon got drunk," says Beatty, "and
made a terrible noise."
On the Fourth of July, which fell upon Sunday, the third anniversary of the American Independence was
celebrated at Camp Lake Otsego, General Clinton "being pleased to order that all [Pg 57]troops under his
command should draw a gill of rum per man, extraordinary, in memory of that happy event." The troops
assembled at three o'clock in the afternoon and paraded on the bank at the south end of the lake. The brigade
was drawn up in one line along the shore, with the two pieces of artillery on the right. The ceremony of the
occasion is described by Lieut. van Hovenburgh as a "fudie joy."[43] A salute of thirteen guns was fired by
the artillery, and three volleys from the muskets of the infantry, with three cheers from all the troops after
each fire. The troops were then drawn up in a circle by columns on a little hill, and the Rev. John Gano, a
Baptist minister, chaplain of the brigade, preached from Exodus xii, 14: "This day shall be unto you for a
memorial ... throughout your generations." After the dismissal of the troops, Col. Rignier, the Adjutant
General, gave an invitation to all the officers to come and drink grog with him in the evening. "Accordingly,"
says Lieut. Beatty, "a number of officers (almost all) assembled at a large Bowry which he had prepared on
the bank of the lake. We sat on the ground in a large circle, and closed the day with a number of toasts
suitable and a great deal of mirth for two or three hours, and then returned to our tents."
The stay at Otsego Lake seems to have been for the most part a pleasant experience. There [Pg 58]was plenty
to eat. A drove of fat cattle was brought from the Mohawk valley for the use of the troops. The Sixth
Massachusetts improved upon the culinary equipment of camp life by the construction of a huge oven. Lieut.
McKendry writes enthusiastically of the delicious apples and cucumbers gathered near the camp.[44] Col.
Rignier was a leader of fishing parties, and quantities of trout were taken from the lake to be served sizzling
hot from the coals to hungry soldiers. There was much liquid refreshment, for the officers at least, which came
not from lake or river. On June 28th there had been a luncheon of officers at Camp Liberty, Low's Mills (near
Swanswick), greatly enlivened by the toasts that were drunk, for General Clinton had given to each officer a
keg of rum containing two gallons. On July 7, Lieut. Beatty records that "all the officers of the line met this
evening at the large Bower, and took a sociable drink of grog given by Col. Gansevoort's officers." This
sociable drink seems to have created an appetite for more. Under date of July 8, the next day, this laconic
entry appears in the journal of Lieut. McKendry: "The officers drew each one keg more of rum."

Had the journals of the officers been more confiding in their records, an intimate view of the camp life might
have been disclosed to posterity. For example, judging from McKendry's journal alone, Sunday, August 1,
was decorously uneventful. He has this entry:
[Pg 59]
"August 1, Sunday—Mr. Gano delivered a sermon."
Lieut. Beatty also remembers the sermon, but frankly subordinates it to other incidents of the day to which
Lieut. McKendry was indifferent, or thought best not to allude. Beatty has this comment:
"August 1, Sunday—To-day at 11 o'clock the officers of the brigade met agreeable to general orders to learn
the Salute with the Sword. The General's curiosity led him out to see how they saluted.
"After they were dismissed the officers formed a circle round the General and requested of him to give them a
keg of rum to drink. We little expected to have the favour granted us, but we happened to take the General in
one of his generous thoughts, which he is but seldom possessed of, and instead of one he gave us six. We
gratefully acknowledged the favour with thanks, and immediately repaired to the cool spring[45] where we
drank two of our kegs with a great deal of mirth and harmony, toasting the General frequently—and then
returned to our dinners. In the afternoon Parson Gano gave us a sermon."
On the next morning at 11 o'clock the officers again assembled at the spring "to finish the remainder of our
kegs," says Beatty, "which we did with the sociability we had done the day before," [Pg 60]and, he might
have added, with twice as much rum.
To the troops in general rum was measured out with a more sparing hand. Their pleasures were of a simpler
kind, and they seem to have contented themselves with fishing in the lake, hunting and roaming through the
woods, inviting an occasional attack from stray Indians, which added the zest of adventure to the routine of
camp life. One Sunday afternoon some soldiers found, concealed in a thicket of bushes and covered with bark,
near one of the pickets, "a very fine chest of carpenter's tools, and some books, map, and number of papers. It
is supposed," says Beatty, "that it was the property of Croghan who formerly lived here, but is now gone to
the enemy. Therefore the chest is a lawful prize to the men that found it."
The five weeks at the foot of Otsego Lake were not, however, passed in idleness. The troops were drilled
every day. Target practice for the musketry is recorded by the journals of officers, and a brass cannon-ball
marked "J. C.," found more than a century later in the Glen road, west of the village, suggests that the artillery
was also engaged in the perfecting of its marksmanship, which must have awakened strange echoes amid the
hills of Otsego.
There were two incidents of camp life that were long remembered among Clinton's troops, the one a bit of
comedy, the other a grim commonplace of martial law. The latter related to the discipline of deserters, to
whom various degrees of punishment were meted out by court-martial. On July 20 two deserters were brought
into camp, [Pg 61]and on the next day three others. The more fortunate were sentenced to be whipped.
Sergeant Spears, of the Sixth Massachusetts, was tied to a tree, and the woods resounded to the blows of the
lash, until one hundred strokes had fallen upon his naked back. Another soldier received five hundred lashes.
Three were sentenced to be shot—Jonathan Pierce, soldier in the Sixth Massachusetts Regiment; Frederick
Snyder, of the Fourth Pennsylvania; Anthony Dunnavan, of the Third New York.
On July 28, at nine o'clock in the morning, the whole brigade was ordered out on grand parade to witness the
execution of the three men. The condemned deserters were required to stand, with their backs to the river, on
the rise of land at the west side of the lake's outlet. The troops were drawn up facing them. A firing squad

made ready.
All stood motionless, expectant, silent. It was a day that blazed with sunshine, intensely hot.[46] The air was
breathless. Shore and sky were reflected, as in a mirror, from the unruffled surface of the lake. Meantime
information had come to General Clinton that Dunnavan had previously deserted from the British army to join
the Americans, and afterward had persuaded the two younger men to desert with him from the American
forces. Clinton, manifestly glad of an excuse for leniency, pardoned Pierce and Snyder on the spot.
[Pg 62]
Concerning Dunnavan he was obdurate. "He is good for neither king nor country," exclaimed the General;
"Let him be shot."
A crash of musketry, with a puff of smoke, and Dunnavan dropped. The troops marched back to camp. The
deserter's body was buried in an unmarked grave.[47]
The other incident relates to some negro troops who were included in the brigade. That they might readily be
distinguished the negroes wore wool hats with the brim and lower half of the crown colored black—the
remainder being left drab, or the native color. A company or two of these black soldiers were included in a
part of the brigade that was one day being drilled by Col. Rignier, the popular French officer, a large,
well-made, jovial fellow, who was acting as Adjutant General. One of the negro soldiers, from inattention,
failed to execute a command in proper time.
"Halloo!" cried the colonel, "you black son of a—wid a wite face!—why you no mind you beezness?"
This hasty exclamation in broken English so pleased the troops that a general burst of laughter followed.
Seeing the men mirthful at his expense, the colonel good-humoredly gave the command to order arms.
"Now," said he, "laugh your pelly full all!"
The French colonel himself joined in the shout [Pg 63]that followed, while hill and dale echoed the boisterous
merriment.[48]
Clinton's expedition is chiefly memorable in Cooperstown for the exploit by which the heavily laden bateaux,
when the brigade departed for the south, were carried down the Susquehanna. The river was too shallow and
narrow, in the first reaches of its course, to offer easy passage for the heavy boats, and for some distance the
stream was clogged with flood-wood and fallen trees. This difficulty was overcome by building a dam at the
outlet of Otsego Lake, raising its level to such a point that, when the water was released, the more than two
hundred bateaux were readily guided down the swollen stream.
The preparation for this feat preceded the encampment of the brigade on the shore of the lake. On June 21,
before Clinton had left Canajoharie, Colonel William Butler, who had marched his Fourth Pennsylvania
Regiment over from Cherry Valley to Springfield, "ordered a party of men to the foot of the Lake to dam the
same,[49] that the water might be raised to carry the boats down the Susquehanna River; Captain Benjamin
Warren, of the Sixth Massachusetts Regiment, commanded the party.... The water in the Lake was raised one
foot." General Clinton says "at least two," while another account claims that the surface of the lake was raised
as much as three feet.
[Pg 64]

Another reference to this exploit is found in the journal of Lieut. Beatty, who says, under date of June 22, "On
the lower end of the lake we found two companies of Col. Alden's (Sixth Mass.) Reg't, who had made a dam
across the neck that runs out of the lake, so as to raise the water to carry the boats down the creek."
On Friday, August 6, the following conversation took place at a conference between General Clinton and
Chaplain Gano:[50]
"Chaplain," said the General, "you will have your last preaching service here day after to-morrow."
"Ah indeed! Are we to march soon? Before another Sunday?"
"Yes, but I do not want the men to know it."
"Nor shall I tell them; but General, am I at liberty to preach from any text I choose?"
"Certainly, Chaplain."
"And you will not, in any event, tax me with violation of confidence?"
"No! only stick to your Bible, and I'll give the official orders."
On the following Sunday, beneath the arches of their forest cathedral, the brigade of nearly two thousand men
was gathered for religious service. Chaplain Gano chose the text of the sermon from Acts xx. 7: "Ready to
depart on the morrow."
Immediately on the conclusion of the religious [Pg 65]service, before the congregation had dispersed, "the
general rose up," says the chaplain's record, "and ordered each captain to appoint a certain number of men out
of his company to draw the boats from the lake and string them along the Susquehanna below the dam, and
load them, that they might be ready to depart the next morning." At six o'clock in the evening the sluice-way
was broken up, and the water filled the river, which was almost dry the day before.[51]
On Monday morning the start was made. Each of the boats was manned by three men. The light infantry and
rifle corps under Colonel Butler formed an advance guard. The soldiers marched on either side of the river.
Another guard of infantry marched in the rear, and in the centre of the land lines the horses and cattle were
driven. "The first day," says McKendry, "the boats made thirty miles, and the troops marching each side of the
river made sixteen."
The freshet caused by the sudden release of the pent-up water swelled the stream for a distance of more than a
hundred miles. Campbell says that as far south as Tioga the rise in the water was great enough to flow back
into the western branch, causing the Chemung River to reverse its course. The Gazetteer of New York said that
the Indians upon the banks of the Susquehanna, witnessing the extraordinary rise of the river in midsummer,
without any apparent cause, were struck with superstitious dread, and [Pg 66]in the very outset were
disheartened at the apparent interposition of the Great Spirit in favor of their foes. Stone observes that the
sudden swelling of the river, bearing upon its surge a flotilla of more than two hundred vessels, through a
region of primitive forests, was a spectacle which might well appall the untutored inhabitants of the region
thus invaded.
Clinton's brigade joined General Sullivan's division at Tioga Point on the 22nd of August. From this place the
combined forces began a campaign of ruthless destruction against the Indians of the Genesee country. Stone
says the Indians were hunted like wild beasts, their villages were burned, their corn was destroyed, their fruit
trees were cut down; till neither house, nor field of corn, nor inhabitants remained in the whole country. The

power of the Iroquois was gone. Homeless in their own land, the Indians marched to Niagara, where they
passed the winter under the protection of the English.[52]
The Sullivan expedition had accomplished its purpose, with the loss of only forty men.
In 1788, in the digging of the cellar of William Cooper's first house, which stood on Main Street at the present
entrance of the Cooper Grounds, a large iron cannon was discovered, said to have been buried by Clinton's
troops. For ten or twelve years after the settlement of the place, this cannon, which came to be affectionately
known as [Pg 67]"the Cricket," was the only piece of artillery used for the purposes of salutes and
merrymakings in the vicinity of Cooperstown. After about fifty years of this service it burst in the cause of
rejoicing on a certain Fourth of July. At the time of its final disaster (for it had met with many vicissitudes), it
is said that there was no perceptible difference in size between its touchhole and its muzzle.[53]
In 1898, a building which stood in the Cooper Grounds next east of the Clark Estate office was removed, and
in grading the land workmen found, just beneath the surface, the stump of a locust tree about two feet in
diameter. This was about twenty-five feet east of the office building, and about the same distance from Main
Street. The stump was pulled out by teams of horses, and beneath it, at a depth of about four feet from the
surface, some charred material was found, and a mass of what proved to be, when cleansed of adhesions,
American Army buttons of the Revolutionary period. The find was made by Charles J. Tuttle, a well-known
mason and contractor of the village, and veteran of the Civil War. The buttons were of different sizes and
shapes, some plated in silver, others in gold, while many were of brass. Within a short time the news of the
find had spread through the village, and a troop of relic hunters gathered at the spot, but the hole had been
filled up without further investigation. At the time of Clinton's encampment, in 1779, there must have been a
building [Pg 68]whose cellar had been used as a storeroom for military supplies. The charred material
suggests that the building was at some time burned. The locust stump tells of a tree that sprang up amid the
ruins, flourished, and died, within a hundred and twenty years after the departure of Clinton's troops.
Fenimore Cooper, writing in 1838, said that traces of Clinton's dam were still to be seen. The last of the logs
that remained of the old dam were removed on October 26, 1825, in connection with a curious local
celebration of the opening of the Erie Canal, which on that day was the occasion of general rejoicing
throughout the State of New York. Cannon, placed a few miles apart, from Buffalo to Albany, and thence to
Sandy Hook, were proclaiming that Governor DeWitt Clinton, whose influence had so large a share in this
great enterprise, had entered the first canal boat at Buffalo, and was on his way to New York. Since Governor
Clinton was the son of General James Clinton, under whose command the dam at the outlet of Otsego Lake
had been built, it seemed appropriate to the inhabitants that Cooperstown should have a celebration of its own,
and could thus most auspiciously begin a project which some bold spirits then had in mind, nothing less than
the construction of a Susquehanna Canal, to connect Cooperstown with the Erie Canal at the north, and with
the coal fields of Pennsylvania at the south.
On this occasion the villagers gathered in Christ Church for a religious service and to hear [Pg 69]an address
delivered by Samuel Starkweather, after which they marched in procession to the Red Lion Inn. Here a public
banquet was served, and "after the removal of the cloth," says the contemporary account, "toasts were drunk
under the discharge of cannon, most of them being succeeded by hearty cheering and animated airs from the
band." The hopes which gave importance to this celebration are expressed in two of the toasts proposed, one
by Henry Phinney, "The contemplated Susquehanna River Canal"; the other by Elisha Foote, "A speedy union
of the pure waters of Otsego Lake with the Erie Canal."
When the company had left the table the whole village marched to the river, and assembled on the shore near
the site of Clinton's dam. Boat horns, (sometimes called canal horns) about six feet long, typical of the "long
ditch," were then common, and furnished blasts of martial music amid the crowd. The multitude was mustered
somewhat after the order of a brigade. One company, consisting of over forty men with wheelbarrows and

shovels, known as "sappers, miners and excavators," commanded by Captain William Wilson, marched with
their comrades boldly to the scene of action. Lawrence McNamee, president of the day, personating Governor
Clinton, threw the first shovelful of dirt. When the last remaining log of the old dam had been removed the
procession marched back to the village, while the air was "rent with the huzzas of those who witnessed the
first practical essay toward rendering the waters of the Susquehanna navigable for [Pg 70]the purposes of
commerce," and a nine-pounder upon the top of Mount Vision, at regular intervals, told the hills and valleys
around that Cooperstown was rejoicing.[54]
It is almost needless to say that the development of railway transportation put an end to this project for a
canal.
On September 2, 1901, another generation of people assembled near the outlet of the lake to witness the
unveiling of a marker placed by Otsego Chapter, Daughters of the American Revolution, Mrs. Isabella Scott
Ernst, regent, to indicate the site and to commemorate the fame of Clinton's dam.[55] The crowd approached
the bank of the Susquehanna by descending from River Street, where an arch of bunting had been erected. A
large float anchored near the western bank was trimmed with flags, bunting, and vines. Directly across the
river, on the eastern point of the outlet, the newly erected marker was concealed beneath the folds of an
American flag. While a band played "The Stars and Stripes Forever," the spectators who lined the shore saw
approaching from beneath the green foliage down the river a canoe paddled by a young man who wore the
gay dress and war-paint of a Mohawk brave. Seated with him in the canoe were two little girls, attired in
patriotic colors. The three in the canoe were lineal descendants of Revolutionary stock. [Pg 71]The young
girls were Jennie Ordelia Mason and Fannie May Converse, both descendants of James Parshall, an orderly
sergeant who was present at the building of the dam in 1779. The Indian was impersonated by F. Hamilton
McGown, a descendant of John Parshall, private, a brother of James Parshall. The canoe was paddled close to
the eastern shore, and the three occupants drew aside the flag which concealed the marker, amid the applause
of the spectators assembled on the banks. The trio in the canoe then drifted back down the river, and were
soon lost to view beyond the overhanging branches.

Site of Clinton's Dam
[Pg 72]
The marker is a large boulder placed a few feet from the eastern bank of the river at the very outlet of the lake.
Surmounting the rock is a ten-inch siege mortar thirty inches in length and weighing 1971 pounds, which did
service at Fort Foote, Maryland, during the Civil War. On the western side of the boulder is a bronze tablet
marked by the insignia of the Daughters of the American Revolution, and bearing this inscription:
Here was built a Dam the summer

of 1779 by the Soldiers under Gen.
Clinton to enable them to join
the Forces of Gen. Sullivan
at Tioga.
Four years after Clinton's troops had made their famous journey down the Susquehanna, the site of
Cooperstown was visited by the most distinguished citizen and soldier in America. For in 1783, at the
conclusion of the war, George Washington, on an exploring expedition, passed a few hours at the foot of
Otsego Lake. In a letter to the Marquis de Chastellux he says that he "traversed the country to the head of the
eastern branch of the Susquehannah, and viewed the lake Otsego, and the portage between that lake and the
Mohawk River at Canajoharie." In the same letter he says, "I am anxiously desirous to quit the walks of public

life, and under my own vine and my own fig-tree to seek those enjoyments, and that relaxation, which a mind
that has been continually on the stretch for more than eight years, stands so much need of."
[Pg 73]
Weary of war, and longing for some tranquil retreat from the cares of his exalted station, as he looked upon
the scene which has become familiar to all lovers of Cooperstown—the peaceful lake, with verdant hills
surrounding, and the Sleeping Lion at the end of the vista—the calm beauty of this view, rather than the
splendid images of martial triumph, was reflected in the soul of Washington.
FOOTNOTES:
[36] The Old New York Frontier, pp. 148, 161, 165.
[37] The Old New York Frontier, Chapters III and IV.
[38] The Old New York Frontier, p. 197.
[39] do., p. 257.
[41] History of Schoharie County, Jeptha R. Simms, 298.
[42] Sullivan's Indian Expedition, Frederick Cook, p. 19.
[43] Journal of Lieut. Rudolphus van Hovenburgh, 4th New York Reg't., Sullivan's Indian Expedition, p. 276.
[44] Sullivan's Indian Expedition, p. 201.
[45] There is a spring in the present grounds of Averell cottage; another in the grounds of the O-te-sa-ga, and
a third at the foot of Nelson Avenue.
[46] Lieut. Beatty's journal.
[47] Lieut. McKendry's journal.
[48] History of Schoharie County, 299.
[49] Journal of Lieut. William McKendry, of the 6th Mass. Reg't, of which he was Quartermaster.
[50] Pathfinders of the Revolution, William Elliott Griffis, p. 95. Sullivan's Indian Expedition, p. 386.
[51] McKendry's journal.
[53] Chronicles of Cooperstown.
[54] History of Cooperstown, Livermore, p. 17. The Freeman's Journal, Oct. 31, 1825.
[55] Otsego Farmer, Sept. 6, 1901.

[Pg 74]
CHAPTER IV
THE BEGINNING OF THE SETTLEMENT

On an autumn day in the year 1785 a solitary horseman might have been seen emerging from the forest near
Otsego Lake. The old-fashioned novelist who invented the "solitary horseman" as a means of introducing a
romance could not have found a better use for his favorite phrase than to describe the approach of this visitor.
For with his coming the history of Cooperstown began. Following the trail from Cherry Valley, the horseman
came over the hill which rises toward the east from the foot of Otsego Lake. Before descending into the vale,
he dismounted and climbed a sapling, in order to gain a glimpse beyond the dense screen of intervening trees.
From this elevation he looked down upon an enchanting view of glimmering waters and wooded shores.
While he gazed, a deer came forth from the woods near Otsego Rock and slaked its thirst in the liquid that
flamed with the reflected red and gold of autumnal foliage. The beauty of this first view always lingered in the
heart of William Cooper, and the hill from which he gained it he afterward called "the Vision," in memory of
his first impression. To this day the hill is known as "Mount Vision."
[Pg 75]
In a letter written some years afterwards, William Cooper thus describes his venture into this region:
In 1785 I visited the rough and hilly country of Otsego, where there existed not an inhabitant, nor any trace of
a road; I was alone, three hundred miles from home, without bread, meat, or food of any kind; fire and fishing
tackle were my only means of subsistence. I caught trout in the brook and roasted them in the ashes. My horse
fed on the grass that grew by the edge of the waters. I laid me down to sleep in my watch coat, nothing but the
melancholy Wilderness around me. In this way I explored the country, formed my plans of future settlement,
and meditated upon the spot where a place of trade or a village should afterward be established.[56]
The Cooper family had settled in America in 1679, coming from Buckingham, in England, and for a century
made their home in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. William Cooper was born in Byberry township,
Pennsylvania, December 2, 1754. He afterward became a resident of Burlington, New Jersey, where he
married Elizabeth Fenimore, daughter of Richard Fenimore, whose family came from Oxfordshire, in
England.
William Cooper was associated with Andrew Craig, also of Burlington, in acquiring the title of the Otsego
tract of land which Croghan had mortgaged to William Franklin, son of Benjamin Franklin, and had lost under
foreclosures in 1773. In January, 1786, Cooper took possession of that [Pg 76]portion of the Croghan tract
which has since been known as Cooper's patent, under a deed given by the sheriff of Montgomery county,
which had been set off from Tryon county, and included the later Otsego. The patent included 29,350 acres,
and cost the new proprietors, to obtain it, about fifty cents an acre. Cooper bought out his partner's share in the
tract, and soon became sole owner.
It is characteristic of Cooper's energy that he began the settlement of his land in the midst of winter, and had
many families resident upon it before the snow had melted, in the spring of 1786. Deeds were given to Israel
Guild and several others, who, during the summer, established themselves on spots that are now within the
limits of the village of Cooperstown. These places were originally intended as farms, the village having been
planned to extend from the lake in a narrow strip southward, rather than across the valley, as its later growth
CHAPTER IV 39
actually determined.
Besides the blockhouse built by Croghan on a site included in the present Cooper Grounds, a log house at this
period stood near the corner of Main and River streets, and was occupied by a Mrs. Johnson, a widow, who,
with her family, was among the first residents. Near her home she constructed a frame house, the first to be
erected in the place. It was purchased by William Ellison, a surveyor, who, during the summer of 1786,
removed it to a position near the outlet of the lake, on what are now the grounds of Edgewater. The building
was of good size, having two stories, and was used as a tavern until it was pulled down [Pg 77]in 1810, when
Edgewater was built. In June, 1786, John Miller came, and reaching the bank of the river near the outlet on the
east side, felled a large pine across the stream to answer the purpose of a bridge. The stump of this tree was
for many years a relic within the grounds of Lakelands. There was a small colony of settlers during this
summer, and William Cooper himself came once or twice in the course of the season; but none passed the
succeeding winter within the village plot except Israel Guild, who had taken possession of the blockhouse,
William Ellison at his tavern, and Mrs. Johnson in her hut of logs.
In the spring of 1787 Cooper arrived, accompanied by his wife, who came, however, only for a short visit.
They reached the head of the lake in a chaise, and descended to the foot in a canoe. Mrs. Cooper felt so much
alarm during this passage that she disliked returning in a boat, and the chaise was brought to the foot of the
lake, astride two canoes, for her homeward journey. Mrs. Cooper's timidity occasioned the building of the first
real bridge across the Susquehanna, an improvement which had already been contemplated as a public
service. The road beyond the bridge was so rude, and difficult to pass, that when the chaise left the village
men accompanied it with ropes, to prevent it from upsetting.
During the spring and summer of 1787 many settlers arrived, a good part of them from Connecticut; and most
of the land on the patent was taken up. Several small log tenements were constructed on the site of the village,
and the permanent [Pg 78]residents numbered about twenty souls. Meantime Cooper had been extending his
holdings in adjacent patents, until he had the settlement of a large part of the present county more or less
subject to his control. In other parts of the State also he came to own or control large areas of land, until,
toward the end of his life, he had "settled more acres than any man in America."
THE BEGINNING OF THE SETTLEMENT 40

Otsego Lake, from Cooperstown
Early in 1788, Cooper erected a house for his own residence. Aside from the log huts it was the second
dwelling erected in the place. It stood on Main Street at the present entrance of the [Pg 79]Cooper Grounds,
looking down Fair Street, and commanding a view of the full length of the lake. The building was of two
stories, with two wings. It is represented on the original map of the village, where it is marked "Manor
House." This house was removed a short distance down the street in 1799, on the completion of Otsego Hall,
William Cooper's second residence in Cooperstown, and was destroyed by fire in 1812.
In 1788 John Howard came, and established a tannery on the north side of Lake Street west of Pioneer Street,
near the waters of Willow Brook, which there gurgles to the lake. Howard, who was distinguished as the
father of the first child born in the settlement, afterward became captain of the local militia, and is
commemorated as a hero in Christ churchyard, where his epitaph recites that he was drowned, July 13, 1799:
"Striving another's life to save

He sunk beneath the swelling wave."
It was in the summer of 1788 that William Cooper made a definite plan for the village. Three streets were laid
out running south from the lake, and six streets that crossed them at right angles. The street along the margin
of the lake was called Front Street (now Lake Street), and the others parallel to it were numbered from Second
(the present Main Street) up to Sixth. Of the streets running south, that next to the river was called Water

Street (now River Street), and that at the opposite side of the plot, West Street, [Pg 80]which is the present
Pioneer Street. The parallel street between these two was divided by the Cooper Grounds; the section near the
lake was called Fair Street, while south of the Cooper Grounds it was known as Main Street. This last never
gained the importance which its name seemed to demand, and is now known as part of Fair Street. The map
showing the original plan of the village is dated September 26, 1788.
Aside from the Foot of the Lake, as the settlement was sometimes called, it was known as Cooperton, and
Cooperstown,[57] until 1791, when the latter name came into general use, on the designation of this village as
the county seat of the newly created Otsego county.
The settlers upon Cooper's tract were mostly poor people, and it happened that their first efforts were followed
by a season of dearth. In the winter of 1788-9, grain rose in Albany to a price before unknown. The demand
swept all the granaries of the Mohawk country, and a famine aggravated the privations of the Otsego settlers.
In the month of April, Cooper arrived with several loads of provisions intended for his own use and that of the
laborers he had brought with him; but in a few days all was gone, and there remained not one pound of salt
meat, nor a single biscuit. Many were reduced to such distress as to live upon the root of wild leeks; some,
more fortunate, lived upon milk, whilst others found nourishment [Pg 81]in a syrup made of maple sugar and
water. The quantity of leeks eaten by the people had such an effect upon their breath that they could be
smelled at many paces distant, and when they came together there was an odor as from cattle that had been
pastured in a field of garlic. "Judge of my feelings at this epoch," wrote Cooper, "with two hundred families
about me, and not a morsel of bread."
"A singular event seemed sent by a good Providence to our relief," Cooper's letter continues; "it was reported
to me that unusual shoals of fish were seen moving in the clear waters of the Susquehanna. I went, and was
surprised to find that they were herrings. We made something like a small net, by the interweaving of twigs,
and by this rude and simple contrivance we were able to take them in thousands. In less than ten days each
family had an ample supply, with plenty of salt. I also obtained from the Legislature, then in session,
seventeen hundred bushels of corn."
Those who settled the first farms in the Otsego region had not the means of clearing more than a small spot in
the midst of thick and lofty woods, so that their grain grew chiefly in the shade; their maize did not ripen;
their wheat was blasted; and for the grinding of what little they gathered there was no mill within twenty
miles, while few were owners of horses. Some walked to the mill at Canajoharie, twenty-five miles away,
carrying their grist on their shoulders.
William Cooper, after coming to live here, realized that the situation of the settlers was [Pg 82]precarious. He
brought a stock of goods to the new settlement, and established a general store under Richard R. Smith, son of
the Richard Smith who had visited Croghan at Otsego Lake twenty years before. Cooper also erected a
storehouse, and filled it with large quantities of grain purchased at distant places. He borrowed potash kettles,
which he brought here, and established potash works among the inhabitants. He obtained on credit a large
number of sugar kettles. By these means he was able to exchange provisions and tools for the labor of the
settlers, giving them credit for their maple sugar and potash, until in the first year he had collected in one mass
forty-three hogsheads of sugar, and three hundred barrels of pot and pearl ash, worth about nine thousand
dollars. These industries held the colonists together.
Cooper collected the people at convenient seasons, and under his leadership they constructed such roads and
bridges as were then suited to their purposes. Perhaps it was at this time that Cooper devised the cunning
method which he afterward confided to William Sampson: "A few quarts of liquor, cheerfully bestowed, will
open a road, or build a bridge, which would cost, if done by contract, hundreds of dollars."

In 1789 Cooper set up at his newly finished Manor House a frontier establishment that became famous for its
hospitality. For a year before bringing his family from Burlington he kept bachelor's hall, and the festive joys
of the place were long memorable among all lovers of [Pg 83]good cheer. Shipman, the Leather-Stocking of
the region, could at almost any time furnish the table with a saddle of venison; the lake abounded with the
most delicious fish; while the cellar of the Manor House was stored with the imprisoned sunshine of distant
lands.
At Christmastide, in 1789, a house-party entertained by William Cooper celebrated the season with high
revelry. Among the guests was Colonel Hendrik Frey, the boniface of Canajoharie, a famous fun-lover and
merrymaker. A large lumber sleigh was fitted out, with four horses, and the whole party sallied forth for a
morning drive upon the frozen lake. On the western bank of the lake resided, quite alone, a Frenchman known
as Monsieur Ebbal, a former officer of the army of France, whose real title was said to be L'Abbe de
Raffcourt.[58] Perceiving the sleigh and four nearing his house, this gentleman, with the courtesy of his
nation, went forth upon the ice to greet the party in a manner befitting the pomp of its approach. Cooper
cordially invited the Frenchman to join him, promising him plenty of game, with copious libations of
Madeira, by way of inducement. Though a good table companion in general, no persuasion could prevail on
M. Ebbal to accept this sudden invitation, until, provoked by his obstinacy, the party laid violent [Pg 84]hands
on him, and brought him to the village by force.
The unwilling guest took his captivity in good part, and was soon as buoyant and gay as any of his
companions. He habitually wore a long-skirted surtout, or overcoat, which at that time was almost the mark of
a Frenchman, and this he pertinaciously refused to lay aside, even when he took his seat at table. On the
contrary, he kept it buttoned to the very throat, as if in defiance of his captors. The Christmas joke, a plentiful
board, and heavy potations, however, threw the guest off his guard. Warmed with wine and the blazing fire of
logs, he incautiously unbuttoned; when his delighted companions discovered that the accidents of the frontier,
the establishment of a bachelor who kept no servant, and certain irregularities in washing days, together with
the sudden abduction of his person, had induced the gallant Frenchman to come abroad without his shirt. He
was uncased on the spot, amid the shouts of the merrymakers, and incontinently put into linen. "Cooper was
so polite," added the mirth-loving Hendrik Frey, as he used to tell the story for many years afterward, "that he
supplied a shirt with ruffles at the wristbands, which made Ebbal very happy for the rest of the night. Mein
Gott, how his hands did go, after he got the ruffles!"[59]
In the summer of 1790 the house at the northwest corner of Main and River streets was erected [Pg 85]by
Benjamin Griffin. It now survives as the oldest house in the village. Not long after its erection the house
became the residence of the Rev. John Frederick Ernst, the Lutheran minister who came here in connection
with the work of the projected seminary at Hartwick; and for many years the old cottage was the homestead of
the Ernst family.[60]

C. A. Schneider
The Oldest House
[Pg 86]
In this year William Cooper decided to give up his residence in New Jersey, and to bring his family to
Cooperstown for their permanent home. Accordingly he returned to Burlington, and early in the autumn
completed arrangements for the transportation of his family and belongings to Otsego. Only in one quarter did
he find any opposition to his project, but that opposition was [Pg 87]serious. His wife positively refused to go.
Three years before, Mrs. Cooper had had a brief experience of the new settlement. She remembered the tippy
boat, the rough pioneers, and the carriage that had to be steadied with ropes as it careened through the woods.
In Burlington there was a well-established society, congenial friends, an atmosphere of culture, and such
comforts as civilization was then able to afford. Mrs. Cooper had no mind to exchange her residence in
Burlington for the wild uncertainties of life in the wilderness; and so with the conveyance ready and waiting at
the door, and with her husband pleading, she sat firmly in the chair at the desk in the library of her Burlington
home, and positively refused to budge.
Mrs. Cooper was a strong-minded woman, but William Cooper was a stronger-minded man. He seized the
chair, with his wife seated in it, and putting her aboard the wagon, chair and all, began the long journey to
Otsego. Thus William Cooper carried his point, while his wife also carried hers, for she travelled the whole

distance in the chair from which she vowed she would not move. The chair itself, sacred to the memory of two
strong minds, is still in use in the Cooper family.
This journey had much to do with the shaping of another mind which was not at the time consulted or
considered. For Mrs. Cooper brought with her the baby boy of the household, thirteen months old, whose
whole life, because of this change of residence, was cast in a new mould. This child was called James, but in
later years [Pg 88]he adopted also his mother's family name, so that he honored both father and mother in the
fame which he gave to the name of James Fenimore Cooper. All his first impressions, he said long afterward,
were obtained in the Otsego region. It is to be doubted whether Fenimore Cooper would have gained such
wide celebrity as a novelist if he had not discovered the unique field of romance which the lake and hills of
Otsego began to open to his vision. Had Fenimore Cooper remained in Burlington he might have written good
novels, but not The Leather-Stocking Tales, for which he is most renowned. So that when William Cooper
took up his residence in Otsego, he not only became the founder of a town, but he brought to the town the
founder of American romance.
FOOTNOTES:
[56] A Guide in the Wilderness, a series of letters to William Sampson, published in Dublin, 1810, reprinted
by James Fenimore Cooper, grandson of the novelist, 1897.
[57] The names "Cooper" and "Cooperstown" are pronounced by the Cooper family and by natives of the
village with a short oo, as in the word book, not as in moon.
[58] Ebbal is L'Abbe, spelled backward. His last years were spent near New Berlin, beside a lonely waterfall,
where he had a flower garden, and kept bees. His grave was four miles south of New Berlin, until relatives
came and removed his remains to France.
[59] The account of this incident is quoted from Fenimore Cooper's Chronicles of Cooperstown.
[60] In his Chronicles of Cooperstown, (1838), Fenimore Cooper says, "The house standing at the southeast
corner of Second and Water streets, [now called Main and River street], and which for the last forty years has
belonged to the Ernst family, was erected this summer [1790] by Mr. Benjamin Griffin. It is now the second
oldest house in the village." Cooper had already referred to the house of Israel Guild, erected in 1788, as the
oldest house standing in the village (in 1838). Guild's house was burned in the fire of 1862, and therefore the
house erected by Griffin has been, ever since that time, the oldest house. By some inadvertence, Cooper
incorrectly designated the location of the Griffin house. He placed it at the southeast corner of Main and River
streets, when he meant to say northwest. That Cooper writing of what was perfectly familiar to him, should
have overlooked so palpable an error, seems most improbable; yet that he did so is now beyond doubt,
although for many years his authority was cited to disprove the claims of the oldest house in Cooperstown. At
the time of Cooper's writing, the house standing nearest to the southeast corner of Main and River streets,
afterward torn down, had been built by Richard Cooper, and never had belonged to the Ernst family.
Furthermore, in a letter dated May 23, 1805, Rev. John Frederick Ernst, in reply to an inquiry concerning the
location of his property in Cooperstown, wrote to his son—"Here is a copy from the deed: 'The
house-lot—being the northwest corner of Water Street and Second Street, is seventy-five feet front on the said
streets, and seventy-five feet in rear on the west and north by [then] vacant lots, belonging [then both] to Wm.
Cooper, Esq.'" It is clear that this is the same property which Fenimore Cooper, by some slip, described as
being at the southeast corner. Some of the earlier charts of Cooperstown were drawn with the lake front at the
bottom of the map, for convenience of reference, thus reversing the north and south of the usual cartography.
It may plausibly be conjectured that Cooper had one of these maps before him as he wrote, and unthinkingly
recorded, in this instance, its transposed points of the compass. This labored exposition of a small matter
would be an inexcusable pedantry, except that the location of the oldest house in the village is of particular
interest.

[Pg 89]
CHAPTER V
A VILLAGE IN THE MAKING

The county of Otsego was formed February 16, 1791, being carved out of Montgomery county. Cooperstown
was designated as the county seat, and William Cooper was appointed the first judge of the county court. A
court-house and jail was built at the southeast corner of Main and Pioneer streets, the lower story, of logs,
being used as a prison, and the upper story, of framed work, as court room. A tavern was erected on the same
lot, and contained the jury rooms, conveniently near to the sources of refreshment.
During the summer of this year the Red Lion Tavern[61] was erected at the southwest corner of Main and
Pioneer streets, and was kept by Major Joseph Griffin. It projected more than half way across Main Street, and
at that time marked the western limit of the village. For more than three score years and ten, even after the
village grew westward beyond it, this projecting building gave a unique character to the main street,
intercepted all thirsty wayfarers, and held an important place [Pg 90]in the life of the community. Its first
crude sign, representing a red lion rampant, was painted by Richard R. Smith,[62] the first storekeeper of the
village, and first sheriff of the county.
Judge Cooper was the lord of the manor, as it were, in the new community, yet maintained a relation of
comradeship with the settlers. Enjoying the friendship of some of the most eminent men of his time, himself
superior in intelligence and culture to most of his local contemporaries, Cooper had qualities that won the
affection and loyalty of the sturdy pioneers. It is characteristic of him that he once offered a lot, consisting of
one hundred and fifty acres of land, to any man on the patent who could throw him in a wrestling match. The
wrestling took place in front of the Red Lion Inn. One contestant was finally successful, and the land was duly
conveyed to the victor. It is possible that some of the lots owned by Judge Cooper were of no great value, for
it is related that when his eldest son was showing the sights of New York to the youngster of the family he
took him to a pasty shop, and after watching the boy eat pasty after pasty said, "Jim, eat all you want, but
remember that each one costs the old man a lot."
CHAPTER V 46
A VILLAGE IN THE MAKING 47

William Cooper
From the portrait by Gilbert Stuart
Some idea of the position that the "old man" occupied in the village which he founded may be gained from the
novel that the eater of the pasties afterward entitled The Pioneers. In this book, [Pg 91]while historical
accuracy is disclaimed, Judge Temple is easily identified as an idealized Judge Cooper, and a faithful picture
of life in the early village may be recognized; for, as the author says in his introduction, while the incidents of
the tale are purely fiction, "the literal facts are chiefly connected with the natural and artificial objects, and the
customs of the inhabitants." The village of Templeton, in the novel, is the Cooperstown of [Pg 92]reality in its
early days. The spirit of the times, and the character of the men who lived here are thus distinctly reflected in
the placid current of Fenimore Cooper's first Leather-Stocking tale. At the present day the personal
appearance of Judge Cooper himself is vividly recalled from the past through the existence of three portraits,
one by Gilbert Stuart, one by Copley, and a third by an unknown artist. From these likenesses one gains an
impression of his kindly gray eye, firm countenance, and robust figure. His keen sense of humor relieved the
strain of many a hardship in the life of the frontier, for he is remembered as "noble-looking, warm-hearted,
and witty, with a deep laugh, sweet voice, and fine rich eye, as he used to lighten the way with his anecdotes
and fun."
During the twenty-five years that followed the close of the Revolutionary War, Judge Cooper was a speculator
in lands on a large scale, and was steadily engaged in the settlement of the tracts which he owned and those in
which he had a joint interest with others. His judgment concerning land values was keen and far-sighted. That
he was not infallible is shown by his payment of ten dollars an acre for land in the North Woods which is
hardly worth a quarter of that price to-day. On the other hand, in February, 1803, he bought the town of De
Kalb, in St. Lawrence county, about 64,000 acres, for the sum of $62,720, and within three months had sold
56,886 acres for $112,226. It was for successful ventures of this sort that Judge Cooper became widely
known, and was brought into [Pg 93]correspondence with foreign investors, such as Necker and Madame de
Staël, who appear to have become owners of lands, through Cooper, in the northern counties of New York.
Much of Cooper's success in the settlement of new lands was owing to his system of selling to settlers on the
installment plan, instead of binding tenants to the payment of perpetual rent, as some proprietors of great
estates attempted to do, involving endless litigation and the "anti-rent war."
Judge Cooper's friendly relation to the settlers extended, in many instances, to the relief of individual needs by
loans of money, which was not always repaid. One of the French settlers, often a guest at Judge Cooper's
house, borrowed of him fifty dollars. As time went on Judge Cooper noticed that his debtor's visits became
less and less frequent, until finally they ceased. Meeting the man one day, he remonstrated with him, telling
him that so small a matter should not cause him annoyance, and urging him not to allow it to interfere with his
visits at the Cooper homestead. The Frenchman, however, felt that the fifty dollars weighed heavily on his
honor, and that he could not partake of the Judge's hospitality until the debt was paid. Not long afterward
Judge Cooper saw his debtor approaching him with every manifestation of joy, waving his hat, and shouting,
"Judge Cooper! Judge Cooper! My mother is dead! My mother is dead! I pay you the fifty dollars."
Before the close of his career Judge Cooper had amassed a large fortune. After having been [Pg 94]engaged
for twenty years in the improvement of lands he declared that the work which he had undertaken for the sole
purpose of promoting his interest had become fastened upon him by habit, and remained as the principal
source of his pleasure and recreation. Within this period the settlement which he began at Otsego Lake
reached a high degree of prosperity. "This was the first settlement I made," writes Judge Cooper, "and the first
attempted after the Revolution; it was, of course, attended with the greatest difficulties; nevertheless, to its
success many others have owed their origin."

Judge Cooper's political career reflects another aspect of pioneer life in the new settlements. Besides his
election as first judge of the Court of Common Pleas of Otsego county, an office which he held from 1791 to
1800, he was elected to Congress in 1795, and again in 1799. The Otsego Herald of June 23, 1796, describes
the reception given by the people of the village to Judge Cooper on his return from Congress. When it was
known that his carriage was nearing the village, a mounted escort went forth to meet him on the road that
skirted Mount Vision, and when the procession crossed the bridge and entered the main street it passed
through "a double row of citizens" assembled to greet the congressman, while "sixteen cannon" roared a
welcome.
Judge Cooper was a prominent member of the Federalist party, and devoted much of his time to its cause. He
was on intimate terms with its leaders, and in constant correspondence with many [Pg 95]of them. Although
the franchise, at this period, was restricted by a property qualification, and the voters were comparatively few,
the interest in politics entered largely into the life of all the inhabitants, and the political enthusiasm was
unlimited. The polls could be kept open five days, to accommodate all who desired to vote, and as there was
no secret ballot the excitement during elections was constant and intense. Nearly every elector seems to have
been a politician, and the letters of the time are full of politics and party animosity. The shout of battle still
resounds in the title of a little book published by Elihu Phinney in 1796: "The Political Wars of Otsego: or,
Downfall of Jacobinism and Despotism; Being a Collection of Pieces, lately published in the Otsego Herald.
To which is added, an Address to the Citizens of the United States; and extracts from Jack Tar's Journals, kept
on board the ship Liberty, containing a summary account of her Origin, Builders, Materials, Use—and her
Dangerous Voyage from the lowlands of Cape Monarchy to the Port of Free Representative Government. By
the author of the Plough-Jogger."[63]
In the political correspondence of Judge Cooper and his contemporaries there are frequent complaints of
fraud, and of the influence and prominence of foreigners, especially the Irish, with grave expressions of fear
for the future of the country and the stability of property. The Federalists describe themselves as "friends of
order," [Pg 96]and refer to their opponents as "anti-Christians," and "enemies of the country." One of Judge
Cooper's friends who had removed to Philadelphia writes: "We are busy about electing a senator in the state
legislature. The contest is between B. R. M.——, a gentleman, and consequently a Federalist, and a dirty
stinking anti-federal Jew tavern-keeper called I. I——. But, Judge, the friends to order here don't
understand the business, they are uniformly beaten, we used to order these things better at Cooperstown."
It is evident that Judge Cooper had gained some reputation for his skill in electioneering in Otsego county.
Philip Schuyler, writing to Judge Cooper of the election of 1791, says: "I believe fasting and prayer to be
good, but if you had only fasted and prayed I am sure we should not have had seven hundred votes from your
country—report says that you was very civil to the young and handsome of the sex, that you flattered
the old and ugly, and even embraced the toothless and decrepid, in order to obtain votes. When will you write
a treatise on electioneering? Whenever you do, afford only a few copies to your friends."
Judge Cooper's chief political opponent in the county was Jedediah Peck, who settled in Burlington, Otsego
county, in 1790, a man of an entirely different type from Judge Cooper, yet equally famous in the political life
of the times. Coarse and uneducated, Peck overcame all disadvantages by his shrewdness, intellectual power,
[Pg 97]and great natural ability. He gained much influence with the people of the county by his homely skill
as a traveling preacher, going about distributing tracts, and preaching wherever he could gather an audience.
He was an aggressive supporter of the political views and administrative policies of Thomas Jefferson, and
violently antagonized the Federalists of the county, who were under the leadership of Judge Cooper. This
opposition culminated during the administration of President Adams in 1798, when Peck was arrested under
the Alien and Sedition Act for circulating petitions against that Act. He was indicted and taken to New York
in irons, but was never brought to trial, and upon the repeal of the Act was discharged. Peck's arrest and
imprisonment fastened attention upon him, and, together with his continued denunciation of the federal
administration, made him the recognized leader of the Republican (Jeffersonian) party of Otsego county, so

that he dictated its policy and nominations for many years thereafter. Indeed, the overthrow of the Federal
party in this State, with the consequent success of Jefferson in the presidential canvass, is attributed to the
excitement and indignation aroused by the spectacle of this little dried up man, one-eyed but kindly in
expression and venerable, a veteran of the Revolutionary War, being transported through the State in the
custody of federal officials, and manacled, the latter an unnecessary and outrageous indignity.
Jedediah Peck was a member of Assembly [Pg 98]from 1798 to 1804, and State Senator until 1808. Although
looked up to by multitudes as the political leader of his time, Peck was noted at Albany for his shabbiness of
dress. He wore coarse boots, which he never blackened. On one occasion, on the eve of an important debate,
some wag at the tavern blackened one of Peck's boots. Peck, in dressing for the fray, did not recognize the
shining boot, and having put on one began to search high and low for the other. At last, enlightened by the
laughter of his comrades, he drew on the polished boot, and with his feet thus ill-matched strode into the
Assembly chamber, where he delivered one of his most powerful speeches.
For many years Jedediah Peck unsuccessfully urged a bill for the abolition of imprisonment for debt, which
was later adopted. His most permanent and valuable contribution to the welfare of posterity was the scheme
for the common school system of the State, which he had long advocated, and of which, as chairman of the
five commissioners appointed by the Governor in 1811, he became the author.[64]
Some of the asperities of political life in the early days of Otsego county may be inferred from certain
affidavits, printed copies of which, such as were apparently used as campaign documents, were found among
Judge Cooper's papers, endorsed in his handwriting, "Oath how I whipped Cochran." The Cochran referred to
was a political opponent.
[Pg 99]
Jessie Hyde, of the town of Warren, being duly sworn, saith, that on the sixteenth day of October in the year
1799, he this deponent, did see James Cochran make an assault upon one William Cooper in the public
highway. That the said William Cooper defended himself, and in the struggle Mr. Cochran, in a submissive
manner, requested of Judge Cooper to let him go.
Jessie Hyde.
Sworn this sixteenth day of

October, 1799, before me
Richard Edwards, Master in Chancery
Otsego County. SS.
Personally appeared Stephen Ingalls, one of the constables of the town of Otsego, and being duly sworn,
deposeth and saith, that he was present at the close of a bruising match between James Cochran Esq., and
William Cooper Esq., on or about the sixteenth of October last, when the said James Cochran confessed to the
said William Cooper these words: "I acknowledge you are too much of a buffer for me," at which time it was
understood, as this deponent conceives, that Cochran was confessedly beaten.
Stephen Ingalls.
Sworn before me this

sixth day of November, 1799,
Joshua Dewey, Justice of the Peace.

The same incident, viewed from another angle, appears in a letter written by the Rev. John Frederick Ernst to
his son in Albany, and dated at Cooperstown, October 20, 1799.
"There is nothing of any particular news here, except that a Mr. Cochran, late member of Congress, in whose
place I. Cooper is now elected, came here last week, and [Pg 100]on one of the court-days, with a great deal
of brass had the impertinence to assault our honorable Wm. Cooper in the street, & to give him a
Cowskinning—because, as it is reported, he should have told lies about Cochran. As both fell a
clinging & beating one another Mr. Mason stepped between and parted them."
Still another account of the episode is given by Levi Beardsley. He says that the trouble arose over Cochran's
use of his fiddle during a political campaign. Cochran stayed over night at Canandaigua, and when a dance
was got up, he obliged and amused the company by fiddling for them. He beat Judge Cooper at the election
for Congress, but whether from the influence of music and dancing it is now too late to inquire. However, it
was alleged that Judge Cooper had either published or remarked that Cochran had been through the district
with his violin, and had fiddled himself into office. This came to Cochran's ear and brought him from
Montgomery county to Cooperstown. He came on horseback, and arrived while Judge Cooper was presiding
as judge of the court of common pleas. As Cooper issued from the court house, Cochran met him, and after
alluding to the election, informed the Judge that he had come from the Mohawk to chastise him for the insult.
When Cooper remarked that Cochran could not be in earnest the latter replied by a cut with his cowskin.
Cooper then closed with his adversary, but Cochran being a large, strong man they were pretty well matched
for the scuffle. They were separated by friends, and Cochran was [Pg 101]afterward fined a small amount for
breach of the peace.[65]
At the early organization of the county there was considerable strife between Cooperstown and Cherry Valley
in regard to the location of public buildings. It is said that Judge Cooper playfully remarked that the court
house should be placed in Cooperstown, the jail in Newtown Martin (Middlefield), and the gallows in Cherry
Valley.[66]
When Judge Cooper began holding court in Cooperstown in 1791 a number of lawyers were attracted to the
county seat, the first to take up residence here being Abraham Ten Broeck of New Jersey, soon followed by
Jacob G. Fonda of Schenectady. Ten Broeck was the original of Van der School, the parenthetical lawyer in
The Pioneers, his compositions having been remarkable for parentheses. A year later two others of the legal
profession were added to the village community, Joseph Strong, and Moss Kent, brother of the celebrated
Chancellor Kent. Dr. Nathaniel Gott and Dr. Farnsworth coming at about the same time gave the villagers a
choice among three physicians, Dr. Thomas Fuller being the senior in practice. The development of
Cooperstown as a trading centre brought Peter Ten Broeck and several other merchants here in 1791, followed
shortly afterward by Rensselaer Williams and Richard Williams of New Jersey, whose collateral descendants
are still identified with the village.
[Pg 102]
The early shopkeepers of Cooperstown included some who had been engaged in more distinguished callings.
A merchant who excited the most lively curiosity among the settlers was a Frenchman known as Mr. Le Quoy
who kept a small grocery store in the village, and seemed to be altogether superior to such an occupation.
After much speculation concerning his past the village was set agog by an incident which accidentally brought
to light the story of his career. Among the early settlers in Otsego county was a French gentleman named
Louis de Villers, who, in 1793, happened to be in Cooperstown at a time when a fellow countryman named
Renouard, who afterward settled in the county, had recently reached the place. Renouard, who was a seaman,
and an incessant user of tobacco, found himself out of his favorite weed, and his first concern was to inquire
of de Villers where tobacco might be purchased in the village. De Villers directed him to the shop kept by Le
Quoy, saying that he would help a compatriot by making his purchase there. In a few minutes Renouard

returned from the shop, pale and agitated.
"What is it? Are you unwell?" inquired de Villers.
"In the name of God," burst out Renouard, "who is the man that sold me this tobacco?"
"Mr. Le Quoy, a countryman of ours."
"Yes, Mr. Le Quoy de Mersereau."
"I know nothing about the 'de Mersereau'; he calls himself Le Quoy. Do you know anything of him?"
[Pg 103]
"When I went to Martinique to be port captain of St. Pierre," answered Renouard, "this man was the civil
governor of the island, and refused to confirm my appointment."
Subsequent inquiry confirmed this story, Le Quoy explaining that the influence of a lady stood in the way of
Renouard's preferment. Le Quoy had been driven from Martinique by the French Revolution, and his choice
of Cooperstown as a retreat came about through a friendly office which he had performed, while governor of
the island, in liberating one of the ships of John Murray & Sons of New York. The act brought about an
exchange of civilities between the head of this firm and Le Quoy, so that when the latter came to New York,
desiring to invest in a country store until his fortunes should revive, Murray referred him to his friend Judge
Cooper, under whose advice the Frenchman established himself in Cooperstown. He at length made his peace
with the new French government, and, closing his grocery in Cooperstown, was ultimately restored to his
office as civil governor of Martinique.[67] He appears as one of the characters in Fenimore Cooper's novel,
The Pioneers.
The house on Lake Street known as Averell Cottage was erected in 1793, the central part of it, with chimneys
at each end, constituting the original structure. It has ever since been in possession of lineal descendants of the
first owner, James Averell, Jr. James Averell settled on the patent in 1787, and in 1792 exchanged his farm
[Pg 104]for John Howard's tannery on Lake Street just west of Pioneer Street.

C. A. Schneider
Averell Cottage
In 1794 a state road was laid out between Albany and Cooperstown. This road came over Mount Vision and
descended toward the village by a route that may still be traced down the hillside from Prospect Rock.
Cooperstown was then first included in a post route, and a post office was opened in the village, with Joseph
Griffin as postmaster. The mail arrived weekly for some years; it then came twice a week; then thrice. The
daily mail was not established until 1821.
The arrival of the mail was something of a ceremony in the early days of Cooperstown. [Pg 105]Toward
evening the sound of the postman's horn was faintly heard as he rounded the slopes of Mount Vision; the
blasts grew louder as he descended the hill and approached the village; then the thunder of the four
post-horses as they crossed the bridge was heard, and the postman drew up with a flourish at the post office,
where the villagers had gathered to await the news of the outer world. The Otsego Herald publishes a letter
from an indignant citizen, complaining that the mails were opened in a bar-room. Since the first postmaster
was also a tavern keeper, the charge was probably true.
Among the new houses built in 1796 was one that has survived to the present time, and stands on Main Street
adjoining the Second National Bank on the east. This house, distinguished for the quaint beauty of its
doorway, was first occupied by Rensselaer and Richard Williams. At about this time the Academy was
erected on the hill at the corner of Pioneer and Church streets, where the Universalist church now stands. It

was "65-1/2 feet long, 32 wide, and 25 feet posts," while the summit of its belfry was seventy feet high. It was
erected by public subscription, at a cost of about $1,450. "It was one of those tasteless buildings that afflict all
new countries," says Fenimore Cooper, "and contained two school rooms below, a passage and the stairs;
while the upper story was in a single room."
The first school in the village had been opened a year or two earlier by Joshua Dewey, a graduate of Yale,
who taught Fenimore Cooper his [Pg 106]A B C's. He was succeeded as village schoolmaster by Oliver Cory.
The latter assumed charge of the new Academy. The school exhibitions of this institution in which Brutus and
Cassius figured in hats of the cut of 1776, blue coats faced with red, of no cut at all, and matross swords, were
long afterward the subject of mirth in the village. Fenimore Cooper, at one time a pupil in the Academy, took
part in a school exhibition, and at the age of eight years became the pride of Master Cory for his moving
recitation of the "Beggar's Petition"—acting the part of an old man wrapped in a faded cloak and
leaning on his staff.
A reminiscence of old Academy days is connected with the first considerable musical instrument in the
village. Judge Cooper had brought from Philadelphia a large mechanical organ of imposing appearance, which
he placed in the hall of the Manor House. When the organ was first put up and adjusted a rehearsal of country
dances, reels, and more serious music, was enjoyed not only by the family gathered to hear it, but the loud
tones floated from the windows and into the school room of the Academy in the next street. As the strains of
Hail Columbia poured into the school room, Master Cory skillfully met a moment of open rebellion with
these words: "Boys, that organ is a remarkable instrument. You never heard the like of it before. I give you
half an hour's intermission. Go into the street and listen to the music."[68]
[Pg 107]
The Academy, containing at that time the largest room in the village, was as much used for other purposes as
for those of education. The court, on great occasions, was sometimes held here. It was used impartially for
religious meetings and for balls. The Free Masons of the village, who had secured a charter for Otsego Lodge
in 1795, held a religious service, followed by dinner, and a ball, in the Academy, on the Feast of St. John the
Evangelist, December 27, 1796. Of this occasion Jacob Morris writes, "The brilliancy exhibited at
Cooperstown last Tuesday—the Masonic festival—was the admiration and astonishment of all
beholders. Upwards of eighty people sat down to one table—some very excellent toasts were drunk and
the greatest decency and decorum was observed.... In the evening we had a splendid ball, sixty couple, thirty
in a set, both sets on the floor at the same time, pleasant manners and good dancing."
A centre of convivial resort at this period was the Blue Anchor tavern, which was established as a rival of the
Red Lion inn, and diagonally across the way from it, at the northeast corner of Main and Pioneer streets. The
Blue Anchor, according to Fenimore Cooper, was for many years in much request "among all the genteeler
portion of the travelers." Its host was William Cook, from whom the character of Ben Pump, in The Pioneers,
was drawn, a man of singular humors, great heartiness of character, and perfect integrity. He had been the
steward of an English East-Indianman, and enjoyed an enviable reputation [Pg 108]in the village for his skill
in mixing punch and flip. On holidays, a stranger would have been apt to mistake him for one of the magnates
of the land, as he invariably appeared in a drab coat of the style of 1776 with buttons as large as dollars,
breeches, striped stockings, buckles that covered half his foot, and a cocked hat large enough to extinguish
him. The landlord of the Blue Anchor was a general favorite; his laugh and his pious oaths became famous.
In 1796 Judge Cooper commenced the construction of his new residence, Otsego Hall, which he completed
and began to occupy, in June, 1799. The new house stood near the centre of what are now known as the
Cooper Grounds, on the site marked by the statue of the Indian Hunter. Otsego Hall was for many years the
largest private residence in the newer parts of the State, and remained as the finest building in the village until
it was destroyed by fire in 1852. It is said to have been originally of the exact proportions of the van

Rensselaer Manor House at Albany, where Judge Cooper was a frequent visitor.
On one occasion, in early days, when Judge Cooper was away from home, fire broke out in the Hall, and an
alarm given by the neighbors brought the volunteer fire department to the scene. Mrs. Cooper firmly took
charge of the situation. Locking the doors of the house she called out to the servants, "You look out for the
fire, and I'll attend to the fire department!" With this she poured hot water from a second-story window upon
the firemen, and quickly drove them away.
FOOTNOTES:
[61] "The Bold Dragoon" of Fenimore Cooper's novel, The Pioneers.
[62] The original of Richard Jones, in The Pioneers.
[63] Plough-Jogger was the pseudonym of Jedediah Peck.
[64] Address at Cooperstown Centennial, Walter H. Bunn.
[65] Reminiscences, Levi Beardsley, p. 89.
[66] Beardsley's Reminiscences.
[67] Chronicles of Cooperstown.
[68] James Fenimore Cooper, Mary E. Phillips, p. 26. The organ is now at Fynmere.
[Pg 109]
CHAPTER VI
OLD-TIME LOVE AND RELIGION

Enough has been recorded to show the general character of Cooperstown as it existed at the close of the
eighteenth century. A more intimate view of its life at this period is suggested by a package of faded letters,
some of which are here printed, not as supplying historical data, for in this they are quite lacking, but because
whoever reads them with imagination begins to breathe the atmosphere of the time of their writing, and in the
charm of their feminine confidences discovers a side of frontier life that is not otherwise revealed.
The letters were written to Chloe Fuller, who visited in Cooperstown for some years at the home of Dr.
Thomas Fuller. The doctor's wife before her marriage, although not related to him, had the same family name,
and Chloe Fuller was her younger sister. Chloe Fuller became celebrated as a village belle, and it was said that
she had more beaus in constant attendance than any other girl in Otsego. Dr. Fuller was a favorite with two
generations of young men in the village, for he had also two young daughters, who, a few years later, became
noted for their qualities of [Pg 110]mind and daintiness of apparel. Eliza and Emma Fuller were
blue-stockings who knew the value of pretty bonnets and gowns. In the early days of the Presbyterian church,
the sabbath splendor of their entrance at divine service, always a little late, and with the necessity of being
ushered to the very front pew, divided the devotion of the worshippers. Eliza Fuller became the wife of Judge
Morehouse, and established the traditional hospitality of Woodside Hall.
CHAPTER VI 55
Forrest D. Coleman
The Worthington Homestead
Chloe Fuller married Trumbull Dorrance, a descendant of Governor Jonathan Trumbull of Connecticut, and
her daughter, becoming the wife [Pg 111]of John R. Worthington, was long identified with Cooperstown as
mistress of the White House, the Worthington homestead built in 1802 on Main street. The letters belong to
the period of Chloe Fuller's girlhood:
ELIZA MACDONALD TO CHLOE FULLER.
Albany, November 20th, 1798.
Believe me, my very dear Friend, that your letter by Mr. Williams afforded me great pleasure in the perusal,
and it should most undoubtedly have been answered 'ere now had not I been deprived of opportunities; and at
all events I must write by the good Man! I think the epithet you bestowed a very judicious one—but I
really believe, Chloe, you have made a conquest there—when he delivered me your letter, 'It is from
Miss Chloe,' said he with a (methought) significant smile.
I have been well ever since my departure. Now and then the involuntary sigh escapes when my imagination
presents me Cooperstown, and some of its dear inhabitants! I already long to see you all. Oh! for an hour with
your sister and you.
My dear Chloe, convince me that I am sometimes present to your memory by writing long and frequent
letters. Don't wait for answers. Write whenever you find a conveyance; and I shall with pleasure follow your
example.
OLD-TIME LOVE AND RELIGION 56

'Tis past one o'clock. Let my writing at this late, or rather, early hour convince you that I wish to cultivate a
correspondence with you. I must quit. So Good night, my friend. May Jove grant you pleasant dreams, and
may Heavenly blessings enliven your waking hours is the wish of your sincerely affectionate Friend.
ELIZA.
[Pg 112]ELIZA MACDONALD TO CHLOE FULLER.
Albany, Novbr. 28th. 1798
Just before we sat down to Tea, Mr. French called and brought your letter. I immediately recognized the
already well-known hand of my fondly remembered Friend. I was all impatience to open it, which out of
politeness I dispensed with till his departure.
I was highly gratified with the perusal! Happy, my Chloe, should I esteem myself were it in my power to
'revive your drooping spirits'. But why, my dear Friend, are they drooping? What is the cause? Believe me,
nothing but my friendship for you induces me to interrogate you so; and let me beg you in the name of
friendship to answer me candidly. You may, my dear Friend, unbosom yourself to me. I shall sympathize with
you and make your griefs mine. I wish you would write fully, and long letters. This time I will excuse you, but
let me beg of you not to wait till an opportunity is going—but when you retire to your chamber think of
Eliza, and dedicate a few moments to writing, since we can no longer chat together.
I am happy to hear you have found so agreeable an acquaintance as Miss Cooper. I doubt not but that I should
like her. So you were a sleighing with the Doctor? Remember there are two Doctors in Cooperstown, and you
leave me to conjecture which!
You would make me believe Mr. K.—— sometimes talks of me. I fear it is only when you
remind him that there is such a person in existence.
Mr. Ten Broeck spent the evening with us. He brought me a letter from my Father. By his conversation I
understand Mr. K.—— will not be in Albany this year!
The clock has already struck one; my eyes feel quite heavy; my writing will evince this. My best respects to
the Miss Williams. I hope you are intimate with them. [Pg 113]They are fine women! A close intimacy with
them will convince you of this. Tell Mrs. Morgan, Delia, and all those whom love will make me remember,
that I very frequently think of them. Good night! Pleasant dreams to you! I will endeavor to dream of you and
some others in Cooperstown who are dear to the heart of
Your unfeigned Friend,
ELIZA.
'Oh Night more pleasing than the fairest day:

'When Fancy gives, what Absence takes away!'
P. S. I have sent all over the City, but cannot procure any ingrained silks of the color you intended to work
your shawl. Should you fancy any other, let me know, and I will with pleasure send it. Accept of this ribbon
for the sake of Eliza, who wishes oft she was with you.

Friday night, December 28th, 1798.
My dear Chloe,
Mr. Williams delivered me your short yet pleasing letter.... I hope you passed Christmas agreeably.... I can
assure you I did, being favored with the company of Mr. K. and his sister. I regret that her stay in town is so
short. Ever since her arrival my time has been so occupied that my moments for writing were few. Tis now
late—they leave early in the morning—so you must accept a few lines this time. I have sent my
little namesake a New Year's frock, which I beg your sister will let her accept of. The ribbon I before
mentioned accompanies this. Good night—and Happy New Year to you all.
Write soon, and a long letter. Remember me to my friends, and think of
Yours affectionately and in great haste,
ELIZA.
[Pg 114]
Albany, February 10, 1799.
Why, my dear Chloe, do you preserve this long silence? To forgetfulness of me, or want of affection I dare
not impute it, for even the most distant idea of this is too painful. No, I will judge more favorably of my
lovely Friend, and think want of time has been hitherto the cause. Yet let me urge you not to continue this
painful silence, but think of, and write to your absent friend. Cooperstown and its inhabitants will ever afford
a pleasing subject to Eliza. Tell me how you spend your time, your most intimate companions, whether you
often see my father, and if any of my friends ever talk of me.... All our family is now in bed, yet cannot I let
Mr. Strong go without writing a few lines. I wish you felt as anxious to write me.
Does your Hat please you? I am almost afraid it will not, tho' I know I have used my utmost endeavors. If it
does not, you must take the Will for the Deed.
My best love to your dear Sister. Kiss my little namesake for me. Remember me to all enquiring friends, and
think of me as ever
Your truly affectionate
ELIZA.
Mr. Kent is still at Poughkeepsie; it I fear has more powerful attractions than Albany.
HANNAH COOPER TO CHLOE FULLER.
My dear Chloe—Your sister informs me—she sets out to-morrow upon her visit to you. I profit
by her going to write a few lines to you. I have nothing very material to communicate—except that I

often think of you—and continue to love you—which I hope you did not doubt—before I
mentioned it.
[Pg 115]We jog along much after the old way here—you know there are but three articles of news
worth mentioning—Births—Deaths—and Marriages—for this last you know we
were never renowned—from the second, thank Heaven, we are in a great measure exempted, and atone
by the multitude of our first—for the deficiency of both.
We have some hopes of seeing you this Winter—either with your sister or by another
mode—which I hope may be better—A certain Person—who occasionally visited
Coopers Town—has not been here lately—it consoles me, though, that whilst his back is turned
upon us—he is looking the right way. Come then, my child, and be induced by his looks, or smiles, or
attentions, to make us another visit—We will meet you with smiles and pleasure—Mama desires
to be remembered to your Mother. The Boys send their love to Norvey—and I—my dear
Chloe—beg to be thought of—by you—with affection—and that you will accept of
much love from
HANNAH COOPER.
Coopers Town, January 5th, 1800.
Cooperstown, August 4th. 1801.
My beloved Chloe,
Again I date my letter from this place in which I formed for you that friendship which neither revolving time,
change of place or circumstances has been able to alter. Would that I had you as personally at my side as your
dear image is constantly present to my imagination. Perhaps now that I am on the verge of departure it is
happier for me that you are more remote, as parting with you would prove an additional pang to that which I
now feel at the thought of leaving my respected friend, your dear, dear Sister. I have been here three weeks
yesterday, and expect in a few minutes more to take my [Pg 116]exit. You will say, perhaps, my stay is short
compared to my former ones. It is so, but, Chloe, ah! how fast our friends decrease! Our mutual friend, our
pious pattern!—Miss Cooper—is here no more! narrow is the cell in which her lovely form is
laid! but her mind, her soul, I trust is gone to a soil more kind, more congenial, to a Friend in whom while
here its best affections and confidences appear'd to be placed! In every place in which I used to meet with
her—in her Father's Hall, which she highly graced—the vacant chair, the trifling conversation,
my own absence of mind tell me, death has robbed me of a treasure that empires cannot give! Reflection,
however, and daily experience, not only inspire me with resignation to the Wise Ruler of all events, but fill me
with gratitude that God in compassion has removed her from a scene of afflictions, from new trials, from
growing evils, which a tender sensibility like hers too keenly felt long to survive.
Richard, you may have heard, has married one of Col. Cary's Daughters—Nancy—a young,
giddy Girl. I fear she will never supply the place of a Daughter to Mrs. Cooper! I have hardly a fonder desire
for you or for myself than that we might be and live like her, whose memory, I trust, we shall ever cherish....
But, Chloe, a word or two about yourself. Are not you almost married? You are so far away there is no such
thing as hearing about it. Miss Betsy Williams is well & speaks of you with affection. Nancy at present is in

Trenton. Do let me hear from you soon. I must go. Burn this scrawl. Kiss little Mary for me. Adieu. May God
bless you and your truly affectionate friend
ELIZA MACDONALD.
Hannah Cooper was Judge Cooper's eldest daughter, of whom Fenimore Cooper afterward wrote that she
"was perhaps as extensively and [Pg 117]favorably known in the middle states as any female of her years." In
1795, when she was seventeen years of age, Talleyrand was a guest at Otsego Hall, and the following acrostic
on Hannah Cooper's name is attributed to the pen of the celebrated diplomat:
Aimable philosophe au printemps de son âge,

Ni les temps, ni les lieus n'altèrent son esprit;
Ne cèdent qu' à ses goûts simples et sans étalage,
Au milieu des deserts, elle lit, pense, écrit.
Cultivez, belle Anna, votre goût pour l'étude;
On ne saurait ici mieux employer son temps;
Otsego n'est pas gai—mais, tout est habitude;
Paris vous déplairait fort au premier moment;
Et qui jouit de soi dans une solitude,
Rentrant au monde, est sûr d'en faire l'ornement.
Hannah Cooper afterward attended school in New York City, and passed the winter of 1799 in Philadelphia
while her father was a member of Congress. Also a member of that Congress was William Henry Harrison,
later the hero of Tippecanoe, and afterward President of the United States. In this connection Fenimore
Cooper, just before Harrison's inauguration as President, uncovered a long forgotten bit of romance which he
related confidentially in a letter to his old mess-mate Commodore Shubrick as a "great political discovery."
"Miss Anne Cooper was lately in Philadelphia,"—the letter is dated February 28, 1841,—"where
she met Mr. Thomas Biddle, who asked if our family were [Pg 118]not Harrison men. The reason of so
singular a question was asked, and Mr. Biddle answered that in 1799 Mr. Harrison was dying with love for
Miss Cooper, that he (Mr. Biddle) was his confidant, and that he thinks but does not know that he was refused.
If not refused it was because he was not encouraged to propose.... Don't let this go any further, however. I
confess to think all the better of the General for this discovery, for it shows that he had forty years ago both
taste and judgment in a matter in which men so often fail."[69]
In the twenty-third year of her age, Hannah Cooper was killed by a fall from a horse, September 10, 1800. She
and her brother, Richard Fenimore Cooper, had set out on horseback to pay a visit at the home of General
Jacob Morris at Butternuts (now Morris), some twenty miles from Cooperstown, and having arrived within
about a mile of their destination, the horse on which Miss Cooper rode took fright at a little dog, which rushed
forth barking from a farm house, and Miss Cooper was thrown against the root of a tree, being almost
instantly killed. Her brother rode back to Cooperstown with the sad news.
A monument still stands near the public highway to mark the spot where Miss Cooper met her death. She had
many admirers, but the inscription on this monument is said to have been written by her best beloved, Moss
Kent, referred to in Eliza MacDonald's letters.
Hannah Cooper's tomb in Christ churchyard, [Pg 119]within the Cooper family plot, is inscribed with some
plaintive verses that her father composed and caused to be carved upon the slab, with the singular omission of
her name, which was not added until many years afterward.
Miss Cooper was a perfect type of the kind of feminine piety most admired in her day. She shared largely in
the benevolences of her father, and was often seen on horseback carrying provisions to the poor people of the

settlement. "She visited the prisoners in the jail frequently, giving them books, and sometimes talked with
them through the grates of their windows, endeavoring to impress upon their minds the truths of morality and
religion. By her winning, tender and persuasive conversation, their hard hearts, at times, were deeply
affected."
This elder sister of the novelist was the first tutor of his childhood, and he held her memory in great reverence.
In the preface of a reprint of The Pioneers Cooper took occasion to deny a statement that in the character of
the heroine of his romance he had delineated his sister, a suggestion in which he seemed to find a serious
reflection upon his fineness of feeling. "Circumstances rendered this sister singularly dear to the author," he
wrote. "After a lapse of half a century, he is writing this paragraph with a pain that would induce him to
cancel it, were it not still more painful to have it believed that one whom he regarded with a reverence that
surpassed the love of a brother, was converted by him into the heroine of a work of fiction."
Although Hannah Cooper was thus excluded, [Pg 120]by her brother's delicacy, from the place which rumor
had assigned to her among the characters of his first Leather-Stocking tale, her name is commemorated in the
actual scene of the story, for the pine-clad summit which overlooks the village of Cooperstown from the west
is still called in her honor, "Hannah's Hill."
The position of the grave that lies next south of Hannah Cooper's tomb in Christ churchyard is a tribute to the
reverent affection which she inspired. It is the grave of Colonel Richard Cary, one of General Washington's
aides, and his burial in a plot otherwise exclusively reserved for interments of the Cooper family is attributed
by tradition to Colonel Cary's fervent admiration for the piety of Hannah Cooper. Colonel Cary at the close of
the Revolutionary War settled in Springfield, at the head of Otsego Lake. Often a visitor in Cooperstown he
became acquainted with Miss Cooper, and was inspired by a devotion to her character entirely becoming in a
man old enough to be her father, and already blessed with a family of his own. He is described as "an upright,
well-bred and agreeable gentleman, possessed of wit and genius, and good humor." Six years after Hannah
Cooper's death Colonel Cary suffered severe reverses of fortune, and was "put on the limits," as the penalty of
unpaid debt was then described, being an exile from his home in Springfield, and required to remain within
the village bounds of Cooperstown. As winter drew on Colonel Cary died. His dying request was that he
might be buried near Miss Cooper's [Pg 121]grave, "for," he said, "nobody can more surely get to Heaven
than by clinging to the skirts of Hannah Cooper!"
At Hannah Cooper's funeral a singularly noble and picturesque character was brought into the history of
Cooperstown, for the officiating clergyman was Father Nash, who then for the first time held service in the
village, and afterward became the first rector of Christ Church, being for forty years the most noted apostle of
religion in Otsego county.
During the first ten years of the existence of the village, the people depended on rare visits of missionaries for
the little religious instruction they received. The settlers in the region were divided as to religious faith; the
Presbyterians, though the most numerous, were the least able to offer financial support for any regular
religious establishment. Missionaries occasionally penetrated to this spot, and now and then a travelling
Baptist, or a Methodist, preached in a tavern, schoolhouse or barn. On August 28, 1795, a letter appeared in
the Otsego Herald deploring the general indifference to religion which prevailed in the settlement, and calling
for a public meeting to organize a church congregation. The Rev. Elisha Mosely, a Presbyterian minister, was
thereupon engaged for six months, and during that period held the first regular religious services in
Cooperstown. He preached the first Thanksgiving sermon in the village, on November 26, 1795, in the Court
House.
Through the vigorous efforts of the Rev. [Pg 122]Nathaniel Stacy, an itinerant preacher, the doctrine of
Universalism gained a strong foothold in this region. Under his ministrations the society at Fly Creek was
organized in 1805, said to be the first society of the Universalist denomination established in this State. Stacy

was a man of small stature, a rapid speaker, full of Biblical quotations, apt in comparing the Old and New
Testaments, and happy in the use of vivid illustrations. The vehemence and rapidity of his utterance
sometimes sprinkled with saliva the hearers seated near him, which gave occasion for a famous taunt flung at
Ambrose Clark, one of Stacy's converts and an early settler of Pierstown, when his brother Abel said that
"Ambrose had rather be spit upon by Stacy than to hear the gospel preached."
In 1797, the Rev. Thomas Ellison, rector of St. Peter's Church, Albany, with the Patroon, both regents of the
university of the State, visited the Cherry Valley academy, and then extended their journey to Cooperstown,
where Dr. Ellison held service and preached in the Court House. This was the first time that the services of the
Episcopal Church were held in the village. Dr. Ellison was an Englishman, a graduate of Oxford, a king's
man, and a staunch defender of the Church against all dissent. He was a sporting parson, of convivial habits,
and after his first visit to Cooperstown frequently enjoyed the hospitality of Judge Cooper, whom he joined in
sundry adventures.
The Presbyterians and Congregationalists in [Pg 123]and about Cooperstown formed themselves into a legal
society on December 29, 1798. This church was regularly organized with the Rev. Isaac Lewis, a Presbyterian
minister, as pastor, on October 1, 1800, and the Presbyterian organization has ever since continuously existed
in Cooperstown. The Presbyterian church building was erected in 1805, and has not been materially altered
since 1835, when some changes in the structure were made. The carpenters who built the church were twin
brothers, Cyrus and Cyrenus Clark. They were assisted by Edmund Pearsall, who was noted for his rapid work
and skill, as well as for his daring exploits at "raisings." When the steeple of the church was raised Pearsall
astounded the village by standing on his head on the top of one of the posts near the summit.
The pastor of this church for more than twenty years during its early days was the Rev. John Smith, a tall,
strongly-built man, who loomed large in the pulpit as a champion of old-fashioned orthodoxy. His manner of
delivery was soporific, his voice thick and monotonous, but none could gainsay the learning and intellectual
power of his discourses.
Mony Groat was sexton of the church. He performed also the office of policeman in the gallery during the
service, going about with a cane, and rapping the heads of disorderly boys. In winter his duties were
multiplied. The church was heated by a stove placed above the middle alley, supported by a platform
sustained upon four posts, and those having pews near the pulpit [Pg 124]had to walk directly underneath.
Several times during the service on cold days the sexton used to come up the aisle with his ladder and basket
of fuel, place his ladder in position, mount the platform, replenish the fire, descend the ladder, and make his
exit, ladder and all.
Perhaps because it was the first church edifice in the village the Presbyterian church came into use sometimes
for celebrations of a civic nature. The first Otsego County Fair, Tuesday, October 14, 1817, was held in this
house of worship. The Otsego County Agricultural Society had been organized in January of that year, and the
officers of the first fair were: president, Jacob Morris; recording secretary, John H. Prentiss; corresponding
secretary, James Cooper, who had not yet begun his literary career.
The exercises in the church followed an elaborate programme, including prayers, vocal and instrumental
music, and the formal award of premiums.
After the premiums had been awarded the corresponding secretary read a letter from Governor Dewitt Clinton
which accompanied a bag of wheat that had been "raised by Gordon S. Mumford, Esq., on his farm on the
island of New York." While this letter was being read by James Cooper the bag of wheat was brought to the
pulpit of the church, and deposited at the foot of it.

Within the Presbyterian burying ground, at the rear of the church, lie the remains of some of the best known of
the early settlers. A strange [Pg 125]perversity of fate, however, has singled out for the attention of the tourist
a tombstone that has no other claim to distinction than a surprising feature of the epitaph. This tallish slab of
marble stands not far from the northeast corner of the burying ground. It is decorated at the top with the
conventionally chiseled outlines of urn and weeping willow, and bears an inscription in memory of "Mrs.
Susannah, the wife of Mr. Peter Ensign, who died July 18, 1825, aged 54 years," and whose praises are sung
in some verses that begin with this astonishing comment:
"Lord, she is thin!"

It seems that the stonecutter omitted a final "e" in the last word, and tried in vain to squeeze it in above the
line.
The permanent legal establishment of Christ Church was made on January 1, 1811, when a meeting was held
"in the Brick church in Cooperstown," and it was resolved "that this church be known hereafter by the name
and title of Christ's Church."
The erection of the brick church had been commenced in 1807, and it was consecrated in 1810. The present
nave, exclusive of the transept and chancel, is of the original structure. In the sacristy of the church a wooden
model may be seen, made by G. Pomeroy Keese, showing both exterior and interior of the church as it existed
in 1810.
The Methodists held occasional services in the village for many years, and erected their first church, not far
from the site of their present building, in 1817.
[Pg 126]
The Universalists were organized in Cooperstown on April 26, 1831, with the Rev. Job Potter as pastor. On
the site of the old Academy, which had been destroyed by fire, their house of worship was erected in 1833,
and stands practically unchanged at the present time. That there was a somewhat strong rivalry between the
Universalists and the Presbyterians, whose places of worship stand so near to each other on the same street, is
suggested by an incident which occurred during the Rev. Job Potter's pastorate. The Universalists had
organized a Sunday School picnic, and the children had gathered at the church in goodly numbers. The
sidewalk was thronged. A procession was formed, headed by the ice cream cans, together with sundry huge
baskets, all appetizingly displayed. Just as the procession was about to move down the hill to embark for
Three-Mile Point, a small-sized Universalist, stirred by generous impulse, hailed young Dick, a small-sized
Presbyterian, who stood on the opposite side of the street gazing with assumed stoicism on the fascinating
pageant.
"Hello, Dick! Come up to our picnic. We're going to have ice cream and cake and pies, and lots of good
things."
To this cordial invitation Dick, thrusting his clenched fists deep into his pockets, responded at the top of his
voice:
"No, sir-ee! I believe in a hell!"[70]
As early as the beginning of the nineteenth century the Baptists were accustomed to immerse [Pg 127]their
converts with appropriate services near Council Rock. They organized on January 21, 1834, with the Rev.
Lewis Raymond as pastor. Their church building was erected during the next year.

The Roman Catholic congregation was organized in September, 1847, with the Rev. Father Kilbride as pastor.
Their first church was built in 1851, at the corner of Elm and Susquehanna streets. The present St. Mary's
Church, the "Church of Our Lady of the Lake," was built in 1867.
Christ Church
Toward the middle of the century the three most conspicuous steeples in the village scene were those of Christ
Church, the Presbyterian, and the [Pg 128]Baptist. From the shape of their towers, which have since been
modified, they were known as the "Casters," and distinguished as salt, pepper, and mustard respectively.[71]
The land for the Presbyterian church as well as for Christ Church was given by Judge Cooper. Within Christ
churchyard he reserved a space, including his daughter's grave, as a family burial plot, where he himself was
buried in 1809, cut down in the full vigor of his fifty-five years. While leaving a political meeting in Albany,
as he was descending the steps of the old state capitol, after a session abounding in stormy debate, Judge
Cooper was struck on the head with a walking stick by a political opponent, and died as a result of the blow.
Judge Cooper was originally a Quaker, but that he afterward found himself out of sympathy with the Society
of Friends is shown in a formal document by which his relations to that denomination were severed. He was
instrumental in the erection of Christ Church, for a letter written by him shows that he conducted the
negotiations with the corporation of Trinity parish, New York, which, in 1806, gave $1,500 toward the
construction of the edifice. An obituary notice published in the Cooperstown Federalist at the time of his

death says that Judge Cooper "was thoroughly persuaded of the truth of Revelation."
The rood-screen in Christ Church commemorates [Pg 129]Judge Cooper, and a dignified sarcophagus covers
his grave in the churchyard. Recalling the story of his career, one is disposed to claim for his simple epitaph a
share of the attention bestowed upon the tomb of his more illustrious son. For here lies the foremost pioneer
of Cooperstown, notable among the frontiersmen of America.
FOOTNOTES:
[69] James Fenimore Cooper, by Mary E. Phillips, p. 15.
[70] Reminiscences, Elihu Phinney, 1890.
[71] A few Omitted Leaves in the History of Cooperstown, G. Pomeroy Keese, 1907.
[Pg 130]
CHAPTER VII
HOMES AND GOSSIP OF OTHER DAYS

Early in the century activities were renewed, just across the river from Cooperstown, in the development of
what was known as the Bowers Patent, originally owned by John R. Myer of New York, whose daughter
became the wife of Henry Bowers. For some years after their marriage Mr. and Mrs. Bowers lived at
Brighton, near Boston, in a residence that was one of the finest relics of Colonial days, commanding a fine
view of Boston, Cambridge, Charleston, and the bay, with its numerous islands. They afterward removed to
New York City, and Henry Bowers made journeys thence to the Otsego region, where a settlement had been
commenced in Middlefield, then called Newtown Martin,[72] some years before the founding of
Cooperstown.
In 1791, Henry Bowers surveyed and laid out a proposed village of "Bowerstown," across the river from
Cooperstown. It was to extend from the Susquehanna to the base of the hill on the [Pg 131]east, and from the
lake to a point about 1,000 feet south. The projected village never became a reality, although the name is
perpetuated by the present hamlet of Bowerstown, which still flourishes about a mile to the south, on a site
that was once included in the Bowers Patent, where a saw-mill was erected on Red Creek in 1791, the first in
this part of the country. A modern saw-mill now occupies the same site.
The residences across the river are all in the town of Middlefield, but the village of Cooperstown has extended
its corporate limits to include some of them, and virtually claims them all.
CHAPTER VII 65
HOMES AND GOSSIP OF OTHER DAYS 66

Mrs. Wilson
[Pg 132]
After the death of Henry Bowers, his son, John Myer Bowers, married in 1802 Margaretta Stewart Wilson.
Young Bowers was said to be the handsomest and most fascinating man in New York, and had inherited a
fortune which in that day was regarded as princely. Shortly after the marriage he decided to make his
residence on the Bowers Patent in Otsego, and came hither with his bride in 1803, occupying a part of the
Ernst house at the northwest corner of Main and River streets, while the present house at Lakelands was under
construction. The building was erected during 1804, and Mr. and Mrs. Bowers took possession in 1805. Mrs.
Bowers's mother, Mrs. Wilson, made her home with them, and lived at Lakelands for a half a century. These
two ladies contributed much to the life of the community, and the younger generation was fascinated by their
vivid memories of the leading spirits of the Revolutionary War. Mrs. Wilson occupies a niche of fame in The
Women of the American Revolution, by Elizabeth F. Ellet, who said of her that "her reminiscences would form
a most valuable contribution to the domestic history of the Revolution." She was in Philadelphia on the day of
the Declaration of Independence, and made one of a party entertained at a brilliant fête, given in honor of the
event, on board the frigate Washington, at anchor in the Delaware, by Captain Reid, the commander. The
magnificent brocade which she wore on this occasion, with its hooped petticoat, flowing train, laces, gimp,
and flowers, remained in her wardrobe unaltered for many [Pg 133]years. Mrs. Wilson was Martha Stewart,
daughter of Col. Charles Stewart of New Jersey, who was a member of Washington's staff. At the age of
seventeen she married Robert Wilson, also closely associated with Washington, and in the midst of the war
she was left a widow. During the Revolution Mrs. Wilson was more favorably situated for observation and
knowledge of significant movements and events than any other lady of her native state. Her father, at the head
of an important department under the commander-in-chief, became familiarly acquainted with the principal
officers of the army; and, headquarters [Pg 134]being most of the time within twenty or thirty miles of her
residence, she not only had constant communication in person and by letter with him, but frequently
entertained at her house many of his military friends. General Washington himself, with whom she had been
on terms of friendship since 1775, visited her at different times at her home in Hackettstown. Mrs.
Washington also was several times the guest of Mrs. Wilson, both at her own house and at that of her father at
Landsdown. Such was the liberality of Mrs. Wilson's patriotism that her gates on the public road bore in
conspicuous characters the inscription, "Hospitality within to all American officers, and refreshment for their
soldiers," an invitation which, on the regular route of communication between the northern and southern posts
of the army, was often accepted.

The House at Lakelands, as originally built
The hospitality which Mrs. Wilson had the privilege of extending to illustrious guests was returned by marked
attentions to her daughter and only child, on her entrance into society in Philadelphia during the presidency of
Washington. Mrs. Wilson was the object of much devotion on her own account at the capital, where her
appearance was thus described by a lady of Philadelphia in a letter to a friend: "Mrs. Wilson looked
charmingly this evening in a Brunswick robe of striped muslin, trimmed with spotted lawn; a beautiful
handkerchief gracefully arranged at her neck; her hair becomingly craped and thrown into curls under a very
elegant white bonnet, with green-leafed band, worn on one [Pg 135]side." At the same time the debutante
daughter, Margaretta Wilson, became a favorite with Mrs. Washington, who distinguished her with courtesies
rarely shown to persons of her age. A contemporary letter describes her appearance at a drawing-room given
by the President and Mrs. Washington: "Miss Wilson looked beautifully last night. She was in full dress, yet
in elegant simplicity. She wore book muslin over white mantua, trimmed with broad lace round the neck; half
sleeves of the same, also trimmed with lace; with white satin sash and slippers; her hair elegantly dressed in
curls, without flowers, feathers or jewelry. Mrs. Moylan told me she was the handsomest person at the
drawing room, and more admired than anyone there."[73]
Such was the belle whom John Myer Bowers carried away as his bride to the wilds of Otsego, where, shortly
afterward, at Lakelands, her mother also came to dwell. These two ladies, with their unusual experiences,

added a new flavor to the life of Cooperstown.
Eight children born to Mr. and Mrs. Bowers at Lakelands were girls. The father's hopeful anticipations were
so well known in the community that when a son and heir, Henry J. Bowers, was born at last, in 1824, the
event was signalized by the ringing of the village church bells in Cooperstown, the only birthday in the region
that was ever honored by such a demonstration.
[Pg 136]
John Myer Bowers, in his later years, was far from being the Beau Brummel of his youthful days in New
York, and came to be known in the village as a distinct character, ruggedly determined not to yield to the
infirmities of old age. When his physical strength began to fail he kept a horse constantly in harness and
standing at the door of Lakelands that he might ride to and from the village. This horse, known as "Old Chap,"
was a familiar figure on the road in those days, and faithful to his master to the advanced age of thirty-seven
years.
John M. Bowers died in the year 1846. His widow continued to occupy Lakelands until her death in 1872, and
a daughter, Martha S. Bowers, continued the occupancy during her life. After the death of the latter Lakelands
was sold in making division of the Bowers estate. Henry J. Bowers married in 1848 a daughter of William C.
Crain, a prominent citizen of the adjoining county of Herkimer. She was a woman of large intellectual gifts
and undaunted spirit, and personally undertook the education of their eldest son, John Myer Bowers, who sat
on the floor before her, while the mother, book in hand, instilled into his mind the importance of the three R's,
with much stress upon the principles of fidelity and loyalty as elements of success in business. At the age of
sixteen years she sent him to New York to study law under one of the leading attorneys of that city. He
became one of the foremost lawyers of the State, and a few years after its sale repurchased Lakelands, with its
forty acres [Pg 137]along lake and river, as his summer home. No native son of Cooperstown has had a more
successful career than John M. Bowers. In 1915 he won a verdict for Theodore Roosevelt in the celebrated
trial at Syracuse in which suit for libel was brought against the former President of the United States by
William Barnes, the proprietor of the Albany Evening Journal.

C. A. Schneider
Lakelands
A mansard roof was added to Lakelands at the period during which the property was out of the possession of
the Bowers family, but the remainder of the house is of the original building, and the carved wooden doors
and mantel-pieces within testify to the skill of old-time workmanship [Pg 138]in Cooperstown. The wide
stretches of lawn shaded by venerable trees, and the long sweep of lake shore commanded by Lakelands make
it a charming country seat.
In 1801 George Pomeroy, a young man of twenty-two years, arrived from Albany, and set up in business as
the first druggist in the village and county. His store stood on Main Street on the site of the present Clark
Gymnasium. Some of the hardships of the early settlers to which history may only allude are suggested by a
sign which hung in front of the drug store of Dr. Pomeroy, as he was called. This sign depicted a hand
pointing to these words: "Itch cured for 2 cts. 4 cts. 6 cts. Unguentum. Walk in."
Dr. Pomeroy had other talents beside his skill in chemistry, and soon became a popular citizen of the village,
displaying one accomplishment that was perhaps not so rare then as now in being an expert in the exposition
of the Bible. Dr. Pomeroy was not so absorbed in his Bible as to be indifferent to the heavenly qualities which
radiated from the person of Ann Cooper, the seventeen-year-old daughter of the founder of the village, for it
soon appeared that these two young people had formed a romantic attachment. In aspiring to the hand of the
heiress Dr. Pomeroy could not promise to endow her with great riches, but he had a good name in being a
grandson of General Seth Pomeroy who fought at Bunker Hill.
It was as a wedding gift to his daughter, on her marriage to George Pomeroy in 1804, that [Pg 139]Judge
Cooper built the old stone house which stands at the corner of Main and River streets. It was the first stone
house constructed in the village, and the peculiar herring-bone style in which the stone is laid lends to this old
residence a quaint and unusual charm. Under the eastern gable of the house is wrought in stone a spread eagle,
with the date of the building, and the initials of the young couple who began housekeeping there. The
involved order of the initials—G. A. P. C.—the master-mason, Jamie Allen,[74] explained by
saying that the lives, like the initials, of the bride and groom, should be so entwined as to make their union
permanent. And so it proved, for they lived in peace and harmony to a great age. The house was for many
years called "Deacon Place," Dr. Pomeroy being widely known as a deacon of the Presbyterian church, but in
later times it was named "Pomeroy Place."
Ten children were born to the first occupants of the old stone house, and it became one of the liveliest centres
of hospitality to old and young in Cooperstown. Years afterward there were those whose mouths watered at
the recollection of the dining-room in the southwest quarter of the house, where many a merry feast was held,
with particularly fond memories of delicious light buckwheat cakes that came hot from the griddle through a
sliding window connected with the kitchen.
[Pg 140]
As years went on Mrs. Pomeroy became famous as a pattern of good works. In days when trained nurses were
unknown, in almost every family when sickness came the first call was for "Aunt Pomeroy," who was by
many considered wiser than the physicians. In the course of time the surviving children born to Mr. and Mrs.
Pomeroy had homes and families of their own, and the old couple were left once more alone in the old stone
house. Aunt Pomeroy's favorite place for receiving her friends was in the northeast corner room of the lower
floor. There she was accustomed to sit in her rocking-chair, with her book, ordinarily a volume of sermons, or
her knitting, usually a shawl to be sold for the benefit of missions to the heathen. She was fond of a game of
whist, and her great-grandchildren once attempted to teach her to play euchre. She was getting on very well

with the new game, until an opponent took her king in the trump suit with the right bower. She threw down
her cards, exclaiming, "No more of a game where a jack takes a king!" She was always ready to receive
visitors, of whom there were many, except at one hour of the day, which was sacred to an ancient pact
between her husband and herself. Between the hours of five and six Aunt Pomeroy withdrew to her chamber,
while Deacon Pomeroy, at his store, refused himself to customers, and retired to his private office, so that
each devoted the same space of time to a secluded reading of the Bible.
The old couple were not permitted to end their days in the house which had been made a kind of [Pg
141]symbol of their married happiness, and which they had occupied for nearly half a century. Late in life,
owing to financial losses, Mrs. Pomeroy was compelled to sell the property. The aged pair closed the wooden
shutters at the windows, fastened the door behind them, and descended the steps of the old stone house, never
to return.
J. Patzig
Pomeroy Place
Mrs. Pomeroy passed her later years at Edgewater, the home of her grandson. Her death was typical of her life
of piety. On a certain afternoon seventy-five women were assembled for Lenten sewing. After greeting them

all in the drawing-room Aunt Pomeroy ascended the stairs to [Pg 142]her room, stretched herself upon the
bed, and quietly drew her last breath. In accordance with the old custom the clock in the death-chamber was
stopped, and a sheet was drawn over the mirror. Down stairs the rector of the parish read a prayer, and the
women filed out of the house in silence.
Pomeroy Place was not permanently lost to the family for which it was originally built. When the centennial
of the building was celebrated in 1904, the house had already returned to its first estate, having been
purchased by the granddaughter of the original owners, Mrs. George Stone Benedict, who with her daughter,
Clare Benedict, came to occupy it as their American home between journeys abroad.
Mrs. Benedict's sister, Constance Fenimore Woolson, who made many summer visits in Cooperstown, may be
said to have drawn her original literary inspiration from this region, for Otsego appears in her first work, "The
Haunted Lake," published in December, 1871, in Harper's Magazine, while Pomeroy Place itself is
commemorated in one of her earliest productions, "The Old Stone House." From this period till her death in
1893 the sketches, poems, and novels that came from Miss Woolson's pen reached such a level of literary art
that Edmund Clarence Stedman called her one of the leading women in the American literature of the century.
Miss Woolson spent the latter years of her life in Europe, changing her residence frequently. Gracefully
impulsive and independent, she had a gypsy [Pg 143]instinct for the roving life of liberty out-of-doors; yet in
character and demeanor she was so serenely poised, so self-contained, with such inviolable reserve and
dignity, that she was, as Stedman put it, "like old lace."
One of the most remarkable men of early times in Cooperstown was Elihu Phinney, publisher of the Otsego
Herald, who had brought his presses and type here in the winter of 1795, breaking a track through the snow of
the wilderness with six teams of horses. The first number of the Otsego Herald, or Western Advertiser, a
weekly journal, appeared on the third day of April. This was the second newspaper published in the State,
west of Albany, and its title shows that Cooperstown was then regarded as belonging to the far west of
civilization. Like all newspapers of that period, the early files of the Otsego Herald appear to the modern
reader to be singularly lacking in local news, and only the rarest mention of what was going on in
Cooperstown is to be found in its faded pages. There is much of the news of Europe, and the political news of
America admits the printing in full of long speeches delivered in Congress, but the happenings in
Cooperstown seem to have been left to the tongues of village gossips, and the advertising columns stand
almost alone in reflecting the daily life of the place.
Elihu Phinney was a great favorite in the village, being a man of delightful social qualities, and distinguished
for his remarkable wit and satire. His bookstore in Cooperstown furnished a [Pg 144]large section of the
country with an elemental literature, and with many historical works. A year after his arrival he was made
associate judge of the county. It was in the printing office of Judge Phinney that Fenimore Cooper, when a
boy, was in the habit of setting type "for fun," which experience he afterward stated was very useful to him in
the oversight of the typographical production of his writings. On the overthrow of John Adams's
administration Judge Phinney changed the political policy of his newspaper, The Otsego Herald, and became
a supporter of Thomas Jefferson, in opposition to the views of his patron, Judge Cooper, who remained a
Federalist. It was this breach of political friendship which brought to Cooperstown Col. John H. Prentiss, who
came from the office of the New York Evening Post, in 1808, to conduct a newspaper in opposition to The
Otsego Herald. Thus came into being The Impartial Observer, which shortly changed its name to The
Cooperstown Federalist, and in 1828 became The Freeman's Journal, under which name it is still published.
Judge Phinney founded a bookselling and publishing business which, through his sons and grandsons, was
carried on in Cooperstown for the better part of a century after its establishment. His place of business was on
the east side of Pioneer Street, next south of the building that stands at the corner of Main Street, and the
present building on the original site of their enterprise was erected by the Phinneys in 1849.

[Pg 145]
The Phinney establishment became famous for original methods of conducting business. Large wagons were
ingeniously constructed to serve as locomotive bookstores. They had movable tops and counters, and their
shelves were stocked with hundreds of varieties of books. Traveling agents drove these wagons to many
villages where books were scarcely attainable otherwise. The Erie Canal opened even more remote fields of
enterprise. The Phinneys had a canal boat fitted up as a floating bookstore, which carried a variety beyond that
found in the ordinary village, anchoring in winter at one of the largest towns on the Erie Canal. Up to the year
1849, when the publishing department was moved to Buffalo, and only a bookstore remained of the Phinney
enterprise in Cooperstown, their efforts had built up in this village a large publishing business, while they
stocked and maintained the largest bookstores in towns as far away as Utica, Buffalo, and Detroit. As early as
1820 their stereotype foundry in Cooperstown had cast a set of plates for a quarto family Bible, one of the first
ever made in the United States, and of which some 200,000 copies were printed. Later they published
Fenimore Cooper's Naval History, Col. Stone's Life of Brant, several volumes by Rev. Jacob and John S. C.
Abbott which were household favorites for a generation afterward, not to mention many school text-books and
histories.
The occasion which caused the removal of this publishing business from the village arose out of [Pg 146]the
discontent of some workmen whose services were dispensed with when new power presses were substituted
for hand-work in printing. The entire manufactory was burned at night by incendiaries in the spring of 1849.
Elihu Phinney, the founder of the business, was the originator in 1796 of Phinney's Calendar, or Western
Almanac, which was known in every household of the region, for some three score years and ten. The weather
predictions in this calendar were always gravely consulted. In one year it happened, through a typographical
displacement, that snow was predicted for the fourth of July. When the glorious Fourth arrived the
thermometer dropped below the freezing point, and snow actually fell, a circumstance which greatly increased
the already reverent regard for Phinney's Almanac.
A quaint character who established himself in the village before the coming of Elihu Phinney was Dr.
Nathaniel Gott. He was a man of fiery spirit. When Dr. Gott's patients, on being restored to health, seemed
inclined to forget their indebtedness to him, he threatened them with chastisement, and published the
following rhymed notice in the Otsego Herald:
Says Dr. Gott,

I'll tell you what,
I'm called on hot,
All round the Ot-
-Segonian plot,
To pay my shot
[Pg 147]For pill and pot.
If you don't trot
Up to the spot,
And ease my lot,
You'll smell it hot.
NATHANIEL GOTT.
Dr. Gott was an eccentric. He wore short breeches, with long stockings, and always ate his meals from a
wooden trencher. Among a company of village men enjoying a convivial evening at the tavern a contest of wit
and satire arose between Dr. Gott and Elihu Phinney who had become warm friends. Finally it was proposed
that each should compose an impromptu epitaph for the other. In the epitaph which he improvised for Judge
Phinney Dr. Gott, adapting the conceit of the schoolmen, made out Judge Phinney's soul to be so small that

thousands of such could dance on the point of a cambric needle. Judge Phinney retorted with the following:
Beneath this turf doth stink and rot

The body of old Dr. Gott;
Now earth is eased and hell is pleased,
Since Satan hath his carcass seized.
Amid shouts of laughter from the onlookers, Dr. Gott, turning jest into earnest, strode from the tavern, and his
friendship for Judge Phinney was ended.
The town pump stood on the north side of Main Street a few rods east of Chestnut street. [Pg 148]Its former
position is now marked by a tablet set in the sidewalk. On the corner west of the pump Daniel Olendorf kept a
tavern. He was a small man, and very lame from a stiff knee. The muscles of the leg were contracted, making
it considerably shorter than the other. At one time he was leading a lame horse through the street, when a little
dog came following on behind, holding up one leg and limping along on the other three. The sight caused no
little merriment along the street when the lame man, the lame horse, and the lame dog were seen marching in
procession. Olendorf, wondering at the cause of so much amusement, looked back and saw the uninvited
follower. He picked up a stone, and flung it at the dog, exclaiming, "Get along home; there is limping enough
here without you, you little lame cuss, coming limping after us!"
Young James Cooper, afterward the novelist, had left the village when a young lad to be tutored by the rector
of St. Peter's, Albany, and thereafter spent little of his boyhood in Cooperstown. After his uncompleted course
at Yale, and a year's cruise at sea, he returned for a time, in 1807, to his village home, being then a youth of
eighteen years. To this period belongs the incident of his participation in a foot-race among some of his
former companions in the village. The racecourse agreed upon was around the central square, that is,
beginning at the intersection of Main and Pioneer streets, at the Red Lion Inn, the runners were to go up
Pioneer Street to Church Street, [Pg 149]thence to River Street, down River Street to Main, and so back to the
place of starting.
James Cooper was mentioned as one of the competitors, and his antagonist was selected. The prize was a
basket of fruit. Cooper accepted the challenge, but not on even terms. It was not enough for the young sailor
to outrun the landsman; he would do more. Among many spectators Cooper caught sight of a little girl. He
caught her up in his arms, exclaiming, "I'll carry her with me and beat you!" Thus the race began, the little
black-eyed girl clutching Cooper's shoulders. As the contestants rushed up Pioneer Street, and turned the
corner where the Universalist church now stands, the amused and excited villagers saw with surprise that the
sailor with his burden was keeping pace with the other flying youth. Around the square the runners turned the
next two corners almost abreast. After rounding the corner of the Old Stone House, as they came up the main
street toward the goal Cooper, bearing the little girl aloft, gave a burst of speed, amid wild cheers, drew away
from his opponent, and won the race. The basket of fruit was his, which he distributed among the spectators,
and the little girl, afterward the wife of Capt. William Wilson, long lived in the village to tell the story of her
ride upon James Cooper's shoulders.
FOOTNOTES:
[72] The Otsego Herald of Jan. 14, 1796, contained a notice of warning issued by Henry Bowers against
persons who had been cutting down trees "on my patent, in Newtown Martin."
[73] The Women of the Revolution, Elizabeth F. Ellet, published in 1850, pp. 37-67.
[74] A skillful builder and noted character, commemorated by Fenimore Cooper in Wyandotte, or the Hutted
Knoll.
[Pg 150]

CHAPTER VIII
THE PIONEER COURT ROOM

In the fore part of the nineteenth century, when public amusements were few, the people of Cooperstown
found a pleasant relaxation from the hard tasks of pioneer life in attending the trial of suits at law in the court
house. Here were large crowds of interested spectators, and the matters of litigation were widely discussed in
the taverns and homes of the village. Cooperstown, as the county seat, was the chief battle ground of an
endless warfare among the lawyers of the region, and the forensic struggles of the first twenty years of the
century developed an array of legal talent in Otsego county which gained the reputation of being the ablest in
the State west of the Hudson. In those days the best lawyers were orators, and some were actors who would
have done credit to the dramatic profession. The public had its favorites among them, and their names were
known in every household. The trial practice of that day was a keen encounter of wits between men of high
native talent who perfectly understood each other's motives, [Pg 151]and showed infinite dexterity in twisting
facts and arguments to serve their purposes.[75]
CHAPTER VIII 75
THE PIONEER COURT ROOM 76

Ambrose L. Jordan
The ablest lawyer in the county from 1813 to 1820, when he removed to Hudson, was Ambrose L. Jordan,
who began his career in Cooperstown in partnership with Col. Farrand Stranahan. Jordan was a commanding
figure, six feet tall, slim and graceful in figure; blue eyes that were at once keen and kindly added lustre to the
[Pg 152]impression produced by the sensitive features of his countenance. He had a profusion of brown curls
and a complexion as fine as a woman's. Dignified and courtly in manner, he was as brilliant in conversation as
he was impressive and powerful as an orator. In natural eloquence Jordan was a man of the first rank. Added
to this he was a close student, and prepared his cases with great care. He had great powers of endurance, and
in long trials always appeared fresh and strong after other advocates were exhausted. In his pleadings before a
jury he used every resource at his command, indulging in flights of oratory that kindled the imagination,
dazzling his hearers with rhetorical tropes and figures, at times humorous and playful, with a tendency to
personal allusion most uncomfortable for his opponent. Jordan was terrible in sarcasm. One Asbury Newman,
a poor, worthless, drunken fellow, ever ready to testify on either side for a drink of whiskey, was brought
upon the witness stand. Jordan knew his man. After exhibiting his character in its true light, ringing all the
changes upon his worthlessness, and ridiculing his opponent for bringing him there, he closed by saying,
"Gentlemen of the jury, I will convince you that this degenerate specimen of humanity is not the son of the
saintly and exemplary Elder Asbury Newman, but that he is the legitimate son of Beelzebub the prince of
devils. He is an eyesore to his father, a sore eye to his mother, a vagabond upon earth, and a most damnable
liar!" [Pg 153]Poor Asbury never appeared in court as a witness afterwards.[76]
Jordan would never submit to being imposed upon by sharp practice. On one occasion, as he was returning
homeward in the early evening from the trial of a case in a neighboring village, his wagon broke down. There
was some snow on the ground, and a farmer in a lumber sleigh was gliding by, when Jordan requested his
assistance to reach Cooperstown, some five miles away. The two put the broken wagon on the sleigh, and
leading the disengaged horse, drove on to Jordan's home. No bargain had been made, and when, at the
journey's end, Jordan inquired what he should pay, the sharp farmer named a most extortionate sum. Jordan
then declared that the pay demanded was three times as much as the service was worth; yet rather than have
any hard feeling about the matter he would pay double price: but more he would not pay. The offer was
refused, and the farmer departed, breathing threats.
Within a few days a summons was served on Jordan to appear before a justice who was a near neighbor and
friend of the farmer. On the trial the justice gave judgment for the plaintiff for the full amount of the claim,
and costs. As soon as the law would permit, execution was issued on this judgment, and placed in the hands of
a deputy sheriff for collection.
[Pg 154]
Jordan managed to have information of the coming of the officer to collect this judgment. His law partner,
Col. Stranahan, was the owner of a handsome gold watch and chain, which for that occasion Jordan borrowed,
and hung up conspicuously from a nail on the front of the desk at which he was writing, in the little office
building which then stood on Main Street, near Jordan's home.
When the officer entered, saying that he had an execution against him, Jordan asserted that he did not intend
to pay it.
"Then," said the officer, "my duty requires me to levy on your property, and I shall take this,"—at the
same time taking the watch, and putting it into his pocket.
"My friend," said Jordan, "I advise you to put back the watch. If you do not, you will get yourself into
trouble."

The deputy was obdurate, however, and left the office, taking with him the watch. With all possible
expedition a writ and other papers in a replevin suit were prepared for an action of Stranahan against the
deputy sheriff. The sheriff of the county was found, the replevin writ put into his hands, which he at once
served on the deputy, took back the watch and delivered it to the owner. The deputy sheriff called on the
farmer to indemnify him in the replevin suit, which he felt compelled to do. The result of the affair, which was
soon arrived at, was this: the plaintiff succeeded in the replevin suit, the costs of which amounted to over one
hundred dollars. [Pg 155]The judgment obtained by the extortionate farmer was about twenty dollars, and he
finally had to pay over to Jordan, as Stranahan's attorney, the difference between these sums.[77]
When Ambrose Jordan began the practice of law in Cooperstown he planted an elm tree on Chestnut Street in
front of his home, at the northwest corner of Main Street. This elm, grown to mighty proportions, celebrated
its one hundredth birthday in 1913. Within a few paces of the corner, facing on Main Street, and in the rear of
the dwelling which fronts Chestnut Street, stood the small building that Jordan occupied as an office. This is
one of the few remaining examples of the detached law offices which were common in Cooperstown, as in
other villages, in early days, and often stood in the dooryard of a lawyer's residence.[78]
C. A. Schneider
Jordan's Home, and his Law Office
Jordan's partner, Col. Stranahan, was less conspicuous as a lawyer than as a soldier and politician. He was in
command of a regiment throughout the War of 1812, and received official commendation for gallantry. On his
record for military service and personal popularity he was elected senator, from what was then known as the
Western District, in 1814, and again in 1823. During this period he became the recognized leader of the
Otsego Democracy. Stranahan was a poor man, and his official service was rendered at the sacrifice of his law
practice. When [Pg 156]Cooperstown celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of our national independence, Col.
Stranahan, because of his debts, was a prisoner in the county jail. A multitude of people from every part of the
county had gathered in Cooperstown, and among the guests of honor were two old friends of Stranahan,

Alvan Stewart and Levi Beardsley of Cherry Valley, the former being the orator of the day. Stewart and
Beardsley, greatly distressed that, on an occasion devoted to the celebration of liberty, Stranahan should be in
jail, went to the sheriff and gave their word to indemnify him, if he would bring his prisoner to the
celebration. Accordingly Stranahan came, [Pg 157]closely attended by the sheriff, and, after the oration, dined
with the celebrating party. After the drinking of many toasts, toward evening the sheriff wished to return with
his prisoner to the jail. By this time the party was in a merry mood, and full of the spirit of independence. The
sheriff had some difficulty in persuading the banqueters to permit him to withdraw Stranahan from the
festivities. Finally it was decided that if Stranahan must return to jail it should be with an escort of honor, and
a group under the leadership of Stewart, Beardsley, and Judge Morell agreed to perform this duty. On
reaching the jail the members of the escort were seized by another freak of fancy, and insisted upon being
locked up with Stranahan. The sheriff having complied with their wishes, the prisoners soon tired of their
confinement without further refreshment, and sent for the plaintiff against Stranahan to come to the jail. This
being done they affected a compromise with him, by which he agreed to cancel a part of the debt if
Stranahan's friends would each pay him twenty dollars. Thus Stranahan was released in triumph, and the rest
of the night was passed in celebrating the event.[79]
Ambrose L. Jordan's chief rival among the lawyers of Otsego county was his neighbor Samuel Starkweather,
a man of great physical and mental power. He was in many ways to be contrasted with Jordan, more strongly
built, swarthy, having dark eyes and hair, with a massive head [Pg 158]set upon broad shoulders, and every
feature of his face indicative of strong will and energetic action. Somewhat less of an orator than Jordan,
Starkweather equalled him in close logical reasoning.

J. B. Slote
The Home of Robert Campbell
At the beginning of the century John Russell, Elijah H. Metcalf, and Robert Campbell were resident in
Cooperstown. Russell was the second member of Congress to be elected from the place. Col. Metcalf served
two years in the legislature of the State. Campbell, of the well-known Cherry Valley family, built for his
residence in 1807 the house which still stands on Lake Street facing the length of Chestnut Street. He was a
man of stout build, with a full face, slightly retiring forehead, [Pg 159]a trifle bald, urbane and unassuming in
deportment. As a pleader at the bar he was only moderately eloquent, but he was popularly designated far and
near as "the honest lawyer," and his advice was not only much sought but implicitly relied upon. In a period
not much devoted to the amenities of legal procedure one member of this group of lawyers, George Morell,
made a reputation not so much as an advocate as for his faultless diction and polished manners.
On the other hand, Alvan Stewart of Cherry Valley was the clown of the court room, and to such good
purpose that the ablest lawyers of Cooperstown dreaded him as an opponent. He was a master of absurd wit
and ridicule. In Proctor's Bench and Bar he is referred to as "one of the most powerful adversaries that ever
stood before a jury." He was not a profound lawyer, and seems never to have studied the arrangement of his
cases, nor to have bestowed any care in preparation for their presentation, but his mind was richly furnished
with thoughts upon every subject which came up for discussion in the progress of a trial, and his illustrations,
although unusual and grotesque were strikingly appropriate. His greatest power lay in that he could be
humorous or pathetic, acrimonious or conciliating, denouncing the theories, testimony and pleas of the
opposition in lofty declamation, and almost in the same breath convulsing his audience, the court and jury
included, by the most laughable exhibitions of ridicule and burlesque.[80]
[Pg 160]
A case in which Alvan Stewart opposed Samuel Starkweather was long afterward famous in
Cooperstown.[81] The case was an important one, and was brought to a climax when the logical and serious
Starkweather began summing up for the defense. While he was speaking Stewart took a position so as to gaze
continually into the face of his opponent, evidently with the intention of disconcerting him, and of distracting
the attention of the jury. Starkweather was not a little irritated at Stewart's absurd look and attitude. In spite of
this, however, he grappled with the strong points at issue, and elucidated them with telling logic in his own
favor; he kept the closest attention of the jury, producing conviction in the justice of his position; and took his
seat well satisfied that he would have a favorable verdict. In his closing words Starkweather made some
allusion to Stewart's staring eyes, and cautioned the jury against being influenced by the well-known
absurdities which he was wont to introduce.
Stewart in the mean time sat with a pompously assumed calmness and dignity, like a turkey cock beside his
brooding mate before awaking the dawn with his matin gobbling. After a time he began to gather himself up,
and slowly lengthened out to his full height, about six feet four. His blue frock coat thrown back upon his
shoulders sat loosely around him. His arms hanging down beside him like useless appendages to a statue; his
white waistcoat all open except one or two buttons [Pg 161]at the bottom; his white necktie wound carelessly
about his neck; his shirt collar wide open; his face a kind of oblong quadrilateral containing features
grotesquely drawn downward; his eyes, large and prominent, so turned as to show most of the sclerotic white
of the eyeballs,—all were combined to present the buffoon in his utmost burlesque of himself.
Alvan Stewart's first movement was to turn his head and roll his eyes so as to fix the attention of his audience,
who were ever ready to laugh when his lips opened, whether wit or folly came from them. Then, with an
awkward bow, he paid his respects to the court, and, turning to the jury, commenced:

"It appears, gentlemen of the jury, from the remarks of the opposing counsel," here turning to Starkweather,
"that my eyes constitute the principal thing at issue"—pausing a moment, then turning again to the
jury,—"in the cause pending before us. They are the same eyes that my Maker fashioned for me, and I
have used them continually ever since I was a b-o-y,"—drawing the last word out with a deep guttural
voice,—"and this is the first time that I have ever heard their legitimacy questioned." He then went on
to compare his eyes to two full moons rising upon the scene, a phenomenon made necessary to dispel a little
of the darkness that, under the pretence of light and justice, had been ingeniously thrown around the cause
they were to decide. For a full half hour this rambling burlesque was continued, with a manner of delivery
indescribably [Pg 162]ludicrous, only now and then touching upon the cause on trial, and then only to fling
ridicule upon some of the points previously argued for the defendant.
During all this time the spectators were shaking with laughter, while the jury and even the judge had to press
their lips to retain their gravity, and were not always successful. More than once Stewart was interrupted by
Starkweather for bringing in matters not related to the subject under litigation, or for making statements not
warranted by the facts. Stewart stood blinking at him until he had finished, then turned beseechingly to the
judge; when the decision was against him he struck out into some other line of buffoonery equally grotesque.
In conclusion he came down to argumentation, bringing his logic to bear upon the few points that he had not
involved with absurdities, and sat down in triumph.
When the verdict had been rendered in Stewart's favor, Starkweather strode forth from the court room in a
rage, muttering fierce imprecations against a man who was capable of overmatching reason and justice by low
buffoonery.
But none could be long angry at Stewart. He had no personal enmities and no enemies. Later in life he became
an anti-slavery agitator and temperance lecturer pledged to total abstinence, the latter a much needed measure
of reform in the case of Alvan Stewart.
FOOTNOTES:
[75] Noted Men of Otsego during the Early Years, Walter H. Bunn, Address at the Cooperstown Centennial.
[76] Random Sketches of Fifty, Sixty and More Years Ago, Richard Fry, in the Freeman's Journal, 1878.
[77] History of Otsego County, 1878, p. 283.
[78] Moved to the north of the residence, 1917.
[79] Reminiscences, Levi Beardsley, 223.
[80] Walter H. Bunn.
[81] Richard Fry.
[Pg 163]
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER IX 81
FATHER NASH
The saintly life and strange personal charm of the Rev. Daniel Nash, the first rector of Christ Church, made a
deep impression upon the village of Cooperstown in its early days; and the wide range of his apostolic labors
as a missionary gave him a singular fame, during half a century, throughout Otsego county, and far beyond its
borders. The grave of Father Nash is in Christ churchyard, marked by the tallest of the monuments along the
driveway, at a spot which he himself had chosen for his burial.
Daniel Nash was born in Massachusetts at Great Barrington (then called Housatonic) May 28, 1763.[82] At
the age of twenty-two years he was graduated at Yale in the same class with Noah Webster. He was originally
Presbyterian in his doctrinal belief, and in polity was sympathetic with the Congregational denomination, of
which he was a member. But within ten years after his graduation from college Daniel Nash became a
communicant of the Episcopal Church and began to study for Holy Orders. It was one [Pg 164]of the quaint
sayings attributed to him in later years that "you may bray a Presbyterian as with a pestle in a mortar, and you
cannot get all of his Presbyterianism out of him," and when asked how he accounted for his own experience,
"I was caught young," he would reply.
Through the influence of the Rev. Dr. Daniel Burhans, who had made several missionary tours through
Otsego and adjoining counties, Nash became fired with zeal for missionary work in this romantic and
adventurous field. In 1797, having taken deacon's orders, he was accompanied to Otsego by his bride of a
little more than a year, who was Olive Lusk, described as "an amiable lady of benignant mind and placid
manners," the daughter of an intimate friend of his father. They made their first home at Exeter, in Otsego,
and the early ministerial acts of Daniel Nash were divided between Exeter and Morris, about eighteen miles
distant.[83]
The missionary zeal of Daniel Nash was so intense that he was unable to comprehend lukewarmness in such a
cause. The first bishop of the diocese of New York, the Rt. Rev. Samuel Provoost, belonged to a type of
ecclesiastical life that was characteristic of the century then closing. Orthodox, scholarly, not ungenuinely
religious, a gentleman of lofty aims and distinguished manners, Bishop Provoost charmingly entertained at his
New York residence the rugged missionary [Pg 165]of Otsego who came to report to him, but he was quite
unable to enter into a missionary enthusiasm that appeared to him fanatical, or to understand the character of
an educated man who lived by choice among the people of rude settlements and untamed forests. Nash was so
indignant at the attitude of his chief that he resolved not to receive from his hands the ordination to the
priesthood, and it was not until the autumn of 1801, shortly after the consecration of the Rev. Dr. Benjamin
Moore as coadjutor bishop of New York, that he became a priest.
As the result of tireless labor, of much travel through difficult regions, by the maintenance of divine services
at many outposts, Father Nash was able little by little to establish self-supporting church organizations
throughout Otsego and the neighboring region. In 1801 Zion Church was built at Morris. Eight years later
Father Nash organized St. Matthew's parish at Unadilla, and in 1811 completed the formal organization of
Christ Church parish in Cooperstown, where the church building had been erected in 1807-10, and where
Father Nash now came to be in partial residence as rector during seven years.[84]
Aside from these parishes which so soon became permanently established this extraordinary man was
regularly or occasionally visiting and shepherding the people of many other settlements. In Otsego county,
besides giving pastoral attention to Exeter, Morris, Unadilla, and Cooperstown, [Pg 166]he held services and
preached—to name them in the order of his first visits—in Richfield, Springfield, and Cherry
Valley; Westford and Milford; Edmeston, Burlington, and Hartwick; Fly Creek and Burlington Flats; Laurens,
LeRoy (now Schuyler's Lake), Hartwick Hill, and Worcester; New Lisbon and Richfield Springs. In
Chenango county, after the establishment of the church in New Berlin, he officiated at Sherburne and Mount
FATHER NASH 82
Upton. Beyond these points he extended his work to Windsor and Colesville in Broome county; to Franklin
and Stamford in Delaware county; to Canajoharie and Warren in Montgomery county; to Lebanon in Madison
county; to Paris, Verona, Oneida Castle, Oneida, and New Hartford, in Oneida county; to Cape Vincent on
Lake Ontario in Jefferson county; and to Ogdensburg in St. Lawrence county, one hundred and fifty miles to
the north of the missionary's Otsego home.[85] Such was the field of the priest who officially reported each
year to the convention of the diocese of New York as "Rector of the churches in Otsego county."
Here belongs the story of an unusual coincidence. From 1816 to 1831 there lived, in the same general region
of New York State, within one hundred miles of the apostle of Otsego, another well known Christian minister
whose surname was Nash, whose only Christian name was Daniel—the Rev. Daniel
Nash,—always known, [Pg 167]by a title which popular affection had bestowed on him, as "Father"
Nash. To the people of Otsego and Chenango counties the name of Father Nash was a household word, while
to the residents of Lewis and Jefferson counties the same name signified quite a different person. It is curious
that no chronicle of either region betrays any contemporary knowledge of the coincidence. Each prophet was
honored in his own country, and unknown in the stronghold of the other. This is the more strange, since their
paths almost crossed in the year 1817, when the two men of identical name, title, and profession were within
forty-five miles of each other, one being resident as pastor of the Stow's Square church, three miles north of
Lowville in Lewis county, while the Otsego missionary was holding services at Verona in Oneida county. At
different times they traversed the same counties: it was in 1816 that the Otsego missionary made tours in
Jefferson and St. Lawrence counties; the other Father Nash is known to have visited these counties eight years
later.[86]
The series of coincidences is made more singular by the fact that each Father Nash had married a wife whose
first name was Olive, so that not only were both men called Father Nash, but the wife, after the custom of that
day, in each case was addressed as Mrs. Olive Nash.
Aside from these remarkable identities the two [Pg 168]men were quite dissimilar. Both were natives of
Massachusetts, but the Otsego Nash came from the extreme west of that State, the other from the farthest east.
Both originally belonged to the Congregational denomination, but the Otsego Nash had become a priest of the
Episcopal Church, while the other was a Presbyterian minister. The Presbyterian Nash was a famous
revivalist. The Otsego missionary detested revivals. He said that the converts "reminded him of little
humble-bees, which are rather larger when hatched than they are sometimes afterwards."
There is something almost mysterious in the figure of this second Father Nash rising from the mist of bygone
years, and one is quite prepared to read of him[87] that he went forth to labor for souls with a double black
veil before his face, like the minister in Hawthorne's weird tale whose congregation was terrified by the
"double fold of crape, hanging down from his forehead to his mouth, and slightly stirring with his breath."
Three miles north of Lowville in Lewis county, in Stow's Square churchyard, a marble shaft eight feet high,
conspicuous from almost any point in the country which stretches away to the Adirondack wilderness,
commemorates, in connection with the church that he erected there, the Father Nash who labored in Lewis
and Jefferson counties, and in an obscure cemetery, not far distant, a modest headstone marks his grave.
Returning to the story of Cooperstown's [Pg 169]Father Nash, no estimate of his work can fail to take into
account the character of the field in which he labored. When he came to this region the country, while
partially settled, was mostly a wilderness. The difficulties of travel were great. The manner of life among
pioneers was crude. Bishop Philander Chase visited Otsego county in 1799, and gives a vivid impression of
the more than apostolic simplicity of Father Nash's surroundings.[88] The Bishop found the missionary living
in a cabin of unhewn logs, into which he had recently moved, and from which he was about to remove to
another, equally poor, inhabiting with his family a single room, which contained all his worldly goods, and
driving nails into the walls to make his wardrobe. The bishop assisted the missionary in his moving, and
describes how they walked the road together, carrying a basket of crockery between them, and "talked of the
FATHER NASH 83
things pertaining to the Kingdom of God."
In his missionary journeys Father Nash rode on horseback from place to place, often carrying one of his
children, and Mrs. Nash with another in her arms behind him on the horse's back, for she was greatly useful in
the music and responses of the services.
Father Nash held services punctually according to previous appointment, but they were sometimes strangely
interrupted. The terror of wolves had not been banished from Otsego, and on one occasion, at Richfield, the
entire congregation [Pg 170]disappeared in pursuit of a huge bear that had suddenly alarmed the
neighborhood.[89] The bear was captured, and furnished a supper of which the congregation partook in the
evening. While the bear hunt had spoiled his sermon, Father Nash cheerfully asserted that it was a Christian
deed to destroy so dangerous a brute even on a Sunday, and a venial offense against the canons of the Church.
It is further related that Father Nash ate so much bear steak, on this occasion, as to make him quite ill.
Although Fenimore Cooper was usually loath to admit that any character in his novels was drawn from life,
Father Nash was generally recognized as the original of the Rev. Mr. Grant in the novel descriptive of
Cooperstown which appeared under the title of The Pioneers. If this identification be justified, it must be said
that while the author of the Leather-Stocking Tales has well represented the genuine piety of his model, he has
disguised him as a rather anaemic and depressing person. Father Nash was a man of rugged health, six feet in
height, full in figure, over two hundred pounds in weight, of fresh and fair complexion, wearing a wig of
longish hair parted in the middle, and dressed always, as circumstances permitted, with a strict regard for
neatness.
FATHER NASH 84
FATHER NASH 85
Father Nash
The only original portrait of Father Nash now remaining, from which all the extant engravings were taken,
hangs in the sacristy of Christ Church. This portrait was given to the church in 1910, [Pg 171]when the parish
centennial was celebrated, by Father Nash's granddaughter, Mrs. Anna Marie Holland, of Saginaw, Michigan,
and his great grandson, Harry C. Nash, of Buffalo. Mrs. Holland related a quaint incident concerning the
portrait as connected with her own childhood. As it hung in her father's house, she used to be both annoyed
and terrified at the manner in which the eyes of the portrait followed her about the room with persistent and,
as she thought, reproving gaze. Especially when she had been guilty of [Pg 172]some childish prank, the silent
reproach in her grandfather's eyes was intolerable. One day she climbed upon a chair before the portrait, and
with a pin attempted to blind the eyes. The pin pricks are still visible upon the canvas.
At three score years and ten Father Nash looked upon the bright side of everything, being full of anecdote and
humor, and appeared to have more of the simplicity and vivacity of youth than men who were thirty years his
junior. One who saw him at this period of life attributed the old missionary's health and vigor in part to his
great cheerfulness.[90]
The slightest sketch of Father Nash would be incomplete without some reference to the story of his answer to
a farmer who asked him what he fed his lambs. "Catechism," replied Father Nash, "catechism!" And behind
the smile that followed this homely sally the analyst of character would have seen the earnest purpose of his
mission to the children of Otsego which was one of the sublime secrets of his ministry.
In the history of Western New York Father Nash of Otsego deserves a place of honor among the foremost
pioneers. Wherever the most adventurous men were found pushing westward the frontier of civilization, there
was Father Nash, uplifting the standard of the Church. Not only had he courage and energy; he displayed
remarkable foresight in his manner of laying foundations. Of the Episcopal churches in the Otsego [Pg
173]region the greater number were established by him, and most of them flourish at the present time.
"No Otsego pioneer deserves honor more," says Halsey, in The Old New York Frontier, "not the road builder
or leveler of forests, not the men who fought against Brant and the Tories. To none of these, in so large a
degree, can we apply with such full measure of truth the sayings that no man liveth himself, and that his works
do follow him."
FOOTNOTES:
[82] Lives of Phelps and Nash, John N. Norton.
[83] History of Zion Church Parish, Morris, by Katherine M. Sanderson, p. 6.
[84] Historic Records of Christ Church, Cooperstown, G. Pomeroy Keese.
[85] Reports of Rev. Daniel Nash to New York Convention, 1803-1827.
[86] For The Otsego Nash see Reports of Daniel Nash to New York Conventions. For the other see Memoirs
of Rev. Charles G. Finney, New York, A. S. Barnes and Co., 1876, pp. 52, 70, 117.
[87] Finney, Memoirs, p. 70.
[88] Bishop Chase's Reminiscences, Vol. I, p. 33.
[89] Reminiscences, Levi Beardsley, p. 42.
FATHER NASH 86
[90] The Church Review, New Haven, October, 1848, p. 398.
[Pg 174]
CHAPTER X
THE IMMORTAL NATTY BUMPPO

In the opinion of Sainte-Beuve, Fenimore Cooper possessed the "creative faculty which brings into the world
new characters, and by virtue of which Rabelais produced Panurge, Le Sage Gil-Blas, and Richardson
Pamela." Thackeray, praising the heroes of Scott's creation, expressed an equal liking for Cooper's, adding
that "perhaps Leather-Stocking is better than any one in Scott's lot. La Longue Carabine is one of the great
prize-men of fiction. He ranks with your Uncle Toby, Sir Roger de Coverley, Falstaff—heroic figures
all, American or British; and the artist has deserved well of his country who devised him." Thackeray proved
the sincerity of his admiration when he borrowed a hint from the noble death-scene of Leather-Stocking in
The Prairie, and adapted it to describe the passing of Colonel Newcome.
Cooper's wide audience of general readers is here in agreement with Sainte-Beuve the critic and Thackeray
the novelist. Whatever else may be said of Cooper's works it is certain that in the man Natty Bumppo, known
as "Leather-Stocking," "Pathfinder," "Deerslayer," and "La [Pg 175]Longue Carabine," Cooper created an
immortal being. Among heroes of fiction Leather-Stocking stands with the few that are as real to the
imagination as the personages of veritable history. Readers of Cooper recall Leather-Stocking with genuine
affection; others, without having read a line of the Leather-Stocking Tales have somehow formed an idea of
his person and character. Leather-Stocking is a rare hero in being noble without being offensive. "Perhaps
there is no better proof of Cooper's genuine power," says Brander Matthews, "than that he can insist on
Leather-Stocking's goodness,—a dangerous gift for a novelist to bestow on a man,—and that he
can show us Leather-Stocking declining the advances of a handsome woman,—a dangerous position
for a novelist to put a man in,—without any reader ever having felt inclined to think Leather-Stocking a
prig."
Leather-Stocking was first introduced to the public in The Pioneers, the novel descriptive of early days in
Cooperstown which Cooper published in 1823. The character was not yet fully developed, but Nathaniel
Bumppo in outward appearance stood at once complete. "He was tall, and so meagre as to make him seem
above even the six feet that he actually stood in his stockings. On his head, which was thinly covered with
lank, sandy hair, he wore a cap made of fox-skin. His face was skinny, and thin almost to emaciation; but yet
it bore no signs of disease; on the contrary, it had every indication of the most robust and enduring health. The
cold and the [Pg 176]exposure had, together, given it a color of uniform red. His gray eyes were glancing
under a pair of shaggy brows, that overhung them in long hairs of gray mingled with their natural hue; his
scraggy neck was bare, and burnt to the same tint with his face. A kind of coat, made of dressed deerskin, with
the hair on, was belted close to his lank body, by a girdle of colored worsted. On his feet were deerskin
moccasins, ornamented with porcupines' quills, after the manner of the Indians, and his limbs were guarded
with long leggings of the same material as the moccasins, which, gartering over the knees of his tarnished
buckskin breeches, had obtained for him, among the settlers, the nick-name of Leather-Stocking."
In this story the novelist had presented Leather-Stocking as a finished portrait, with his long rifle, dog Hector,
and all. Cooper had described him as a man of seventy years, and intimated no purpose of carrying him over
into another volume. Natty Bumppo proved to be so popular, however, that in 1826 Cooper made him an
important figure in The Last of the Mohicans, representing him in young manhood, at the age of thirty years,
and betrayed a more profound interest in the spirit of the character which he had discovered. The success of
CHAPTER X 87
this venture encouraged the author, in the next year, to bring Leather-Stocking forward, for what he intended
to be the last time, in The Prairie. The closing chapter of that story describes the death and burial of
Leather-Stocking.
[Pg 177]
But the public could not have enough of Natty Bumppo, and the result was that, after leaving him in his grave,
Cooper resurrected Leather-Stocking as the hero of two more novels. In The Pathfinder, published in 1840, he
described Natty Bumppo at the age of forty years; and The Deerslayer, the last published of the series, gave a
youthful picture of Leather-Stocking at the age of twenty. When the Leather-Stocking Tales were afterward
published complete they of course followed the logical order in the presentation of the hero's life, without
regard to the dates of original publication. The actual order in which they were written, however, suggests an
interesting glimpse of Cooper's method of work in developing his most successful character.
It is generally believed that an old hunter named Shipman, who lived in Cooperstown during Fenimore
Cooper's boyhood, suggested to the novelist the picturesque character of Leather-Stocking. The persistence of
this tradition requires some explanation, for it is not strikingly confirmed by what Cooper himself had to say
of the matter. In the preface of the Leather-Stocking Tales, written after the series was complete, he said: "The
author has often been asked if he had any original in his mind for the character of Leather-Stocking. In a
physical sense, different individuals known to the writer in early life certainly presented themselves as
models, through his recollection; but in a moral sense this man of the forest is purely a creation."
In the face of this, the most that can be said for [Pg 178]the current tradition is that Cooper's assertion does
not exclude it from consideration. What he lays stress upon is that the inner spirit of Leather-Stocking was the
novelist's creation. His statement is not inconsistent with the possibility that he had the hunter Shipman
chiefly in mind as the prototype of Leather-Stocking, with some characteristics added from other hunters, of
whom there were many in the early days of Cooperstown. The heat with which he denies having drawn upon
the character of his own sister in portraying the heroine of The Pioneers seems to betray a feeling, which later
writers have not often shared, that an author cannot transfer real persons to the pages of fiction without a
violation of good taste. Here lies perhaps a partial explanation of the fact that Cooper never acknowledged a
living model for any of his characters. Even Judge Temple in The Pioneers, who occupies exactly the position
of Judge Cooper in reference to the village which he actually founded, Fenimore Cooper will not admit to be
drawn in the likeness of his father. He disposes of this supposition in the introduction of The Pioneers by
observing that "the great proprietor resident on his lands, and giving his name to his estates, is common over
the whole of New York." Yet in the same introduction he confesses that "in commencing to describe scenes,
and perhaps he may add characters, that were so familiar to his own youth, there was a constant temptation to
delineate that which he had known, rather than that which he might have imagined." How far he [Pg
179]yielded to the temptation is a question which, in making as if to reply, he deftly leaves unanswered, and
his unwillingness to satisfy curiosity on this point is the one thing that a careful reading of his words makes
clear. He is free to admit in a general way that he drew upon life for material, but he will not be pinned down
as to any particular character; yet only in the one instance—when his sister was named as the original
of Elizabeth Temple—did he flatly deny the identification of a real original with a creature of his
fiction. After all, even if Cooper had drawn many of his characters from real life, there would have been so
much modification necessary to fit them into the action of a story as to warrant him in the assertion "that there
was no intention to describe with particular accuracy any real character"; and if he did not wish to take the
public into his confidence regarding these intimate details of his work, he had a perfect right to treat the matter
as evasively as the truth would permit.
One can see reasons for Cooper's unwillingness to inform the public that his old neighbors in Cooperstown
were to be recognized in his books. There is the creative artist's reason, who does not wish to be regarded as a
mere photographer; there is the gentleman's sensitiveness to certain rights of privacy not to be invaded by
THE IMMORTAL NATTY BUMPPO 88

public print; there is the experience of a writer who was often dismayed at the facility of his pen in stirring
neighborly animosities.
As to Leather-Stocking, this is to be said: that in Cooper's boyhood there lived in Cooperstown [Pg 180]a
hunter named Shipman whom Cooper himself in the Chronicles of Cooperstown, published in 1838, described
as "the Leather-Stocking of the region." Furthermore,—whether owing to any private information from
Fenimore Cooper cannot now be ascertained,—the tradition from his time to the present day, in spite of
the author's vague disclaimer, persistently clings to Shipman as the original of Leather-Stocking.
Strangely enough, the matter in dispute has not been the identity of Shipman with Leather-Stocking, but the
identity of Shipman himself. Who was Shipman? This is the question that has stirred controversy; and two
ghosts have arisen from the past, each claiming to be the Shipman whom Cooper idealized, re-christened, and
made immortal.
Cooper gave to his hero the name of Nathaniel Bumppo. It has been claimed that Cooper borrowed not only
the character but the Christian name of Nathaniel Shipman, a famous hunter and trapper, who came to Otsego
Lake at the time of the Revolutionary War, and made his home in a cave on the border of the lake until about
1805.
According to the discoverers of this original of Leather-Stocking, Nathaniel Shipman was a close friend of the
Mohican Indians, and fought with them against the French and the Canadian Indians. In the years immediately
preceding the American Revolution Shipman was a well known settler of Hoosick, northeast of Albany and
near the border of Vermont, where he had built him [Pg 181]a cabin on the banks of the Walloomsac. He was
well disposed toward the English, and one of his closest friends was an officer in the British army. When the
Revolutionary War began, while Shipman's heart was with the movement for independence, his friendship for
the English was such that he determined to be strictly neutral, helping neither one side nor the other. There is
nothing to show that he was not genuinely neutral. But his patriot neighbors were intolerant of such neutrality.
Anyone who was not for them was against them. Shipman was put down as a Tory, and his neighbors treated
him to a coat of tar and feathers.
Soon after this event Nathaniel Shipman disappeared from Hoosick, and not even his own family knew
whither he had gone.
In process of time Shipman's daughter married a John Ryan of Hoosick. Ryan served in the Legislature from
1803 to 1806, and at that time became acquainted with Judge William Cooper, founder of Cooperstown, and
father of the novelist. In the course of their frequent meetings Judge Cooper told Ryan of an interesting
character whom he had seen in Cooperstown, and described the picturesque appearance and quaint sayings of
the old hunter who lived on the border of Otsego Lake. At home Ryan told the story to his wife, who soon
became convinced that the old white hunter whom Cooper had described was none other than her father, who
had been missing for twenty-six years.
Ryan went to Otsego Lake, and, having found [Pg 182]the hunter, learned that he was indeed Nathaniel
Shipman who had disappeared from Hoosick at the time of the Revolutionary War. Ryan persuaded the old
man to return with him, and brought him back to live in the home which then stood some two miles east of
Hoosick Falls. In spite of the devotion of his daughter, however, the aged hunter never felt quite at home
beneath her roof, or among the former neighbors. His heart was in the wilds, and it is said that he made
frequent visits to the place where he had passed so many years in unrestricted freedom, where there was none
to question his sincerity or to doubt his loyalty.
Nathaniel Shipman died at the Ryan home in 1809, and his grave is in the old burying ground on Main Street
in Hoosick Falls.

The local tradition in Cooperstown does not recognize Nathaniel Shipman of Hoosick Falls. When a
movement was made in 1915 to erect at Hoosick Falls a monument to Nathaniel Shipman as the original of
Leather-Stocking, the proposition was made the subject of scornful comment in Cooperstown, and Nathaniel
Shipman of Hoosick was referred to as "a spurious Natty Bumppo."
Cooperstown agrees that the original of Leather-Stocking was named Shipman. But the name of the original
hunter was not Nathaniel. He was David Shipman. His grave is not far from Cooperstown, in the Adams
burying ground between the villages of Fly Creek and Toddsville, and at the beginning of the twentieth
century was [Pg 183]marked with a tombstone by Otsego chapter of the Daughters of the American
Revolution. David Shipman's descendants live in Cooperstown at the present time. When the Hoosick Falls
claim to Leather-Stocking was first published in 1915, it was accompanied with the statement that the facts
were known to the people of Hoosick sixty years before. Notwithstanding this the claim was contradicted in
Cooperstown by the positive statement that "for over a century David Shipman has held the undisputed honor
of being the real Leather-Stocking of Cooper's tales."
David Shipman served in the American army in the Revolutionary War, and was a member of the Fourteenth
Regiment of Albany county militia under Col. John Knickerbocker and Lieut.-Col. John van Rensselaer. After
the Revolution he lived just over the hills west of Cooperstown in a log cabin on the east bank of Oak's Creek,
about equi-distant between Toddsville and Fly Creek village. In 1878 Aden Adams of Cooperstown, aged 81,
stated that he well remembered David Shipman. As described by Adams, he was tall and slim, dressed in
tanned deerskin, wore moccasins and long stockings of leather fastened at the knee, and carried a gun of great
length. He was one of the most famous hunters of the whole country, and with his dogs roamed the forest in
search of deer, bear, and foxes. He supplied the Cooper family at Otsego Hall with deer and bear meat, and
also assisted Judge Cooper when he was surveying land about Cooperstown in the early days of the
settlement. Colonel [Pg 184]Cheney[91] says that after going west, David Shipman returned to his old home
in the Fly Creek valley, and lived there for several years. His wife died, and was buried in the Adams
cemetery. The ground was wet, and water partially filled the grave. Elder Bostwick, a Baptist minister from
the town of Hartwick, officiated at the funeral, and upon remarking to Shipman that it was a poor place to
bury the dead, the old hunter answered, "I know it, but if I live to die, I expect to be buried here myself."[92]
Cooper's most famous hero, carved in marble, rifle in hand, and with the dog Hector at his feet, stands at the
top of the Leatherstocking monument in Lakewood cemetery, on a rise of ground near the entrance,
overlooking Otsego Lake from the east side, about fifteen minutes walk from the village of Cooperstown.
That a monument commemorative of Cooper and Leather-Stocking should stand in the public cemetery, in
which neither the author nor his supposed model is buried, is sometimes puzzling to visitors. It is said,
however, that the site was chosen with [Pg 185]reference to certain scenes in The Pioneers. The monument
stands near the spot upon which the novelist, for the purpose of his romance, placed the hut of Natty Bumppo.
It is not far below the road referred to in the opening scene of the tale, where the travelers gained their first
glimpse of the village, and stands at the foot of the wooded slope upon which, in the same story,
Leather-Stocking shot the panther that was about to spring upon Elizabeth Temple.


Leatherstocking Monument
The monument itself was the result of an unsuccessful effort which was made shortly after [Pg 186]Fenimore
Cooper's death in 1851 to erect in his memory a statue or monument in one of the public squares of New York
City. To this end, ten days after his death, a public meeting of citizens of New York, at which Washington
Irving presided, was held in the City Hall; two weeks later the Historical Society of New York held a meeting
in commemoration of Cooper; and on February 24, 1852, there was a great demonstration at Metropolitan
Hall, with speeches by Daniel Webster and George Bancroft, and a memorial discourse by William Cullen
Bryant. The raising of funds for a memorial, which these meetings set as their object, was not commensurate
with the expenditure of rhetoric. The sum of $678 was contributed, chiefly at the meeting in Metropolitan
Hall, and the committee organized to solicit subscriptions did nothing further.
Six years later Alfred Clarke and G. Pomeroy Keese of Cooperstown undertook to raise by subscription a
sufficient sum to erect a monument in Cooper's memory in or near the village in which he lived, having in
view the transfer of whatever sum might be on deposit in New York toward the proposed monument. They
raised $2,500, to which Washington Irving, acting for the defunct committee in New York, added the $678
already contributed.
The monument, of white Italian marble, with the statuette of Leather-Stocking at the top, was sculptured by
Robert E. Launitz, and erected in the spring of 1860. The small bronze casts of this statuette, which one sees
in some of the older [Pg 187]homes in Cooperstown, belong to the same period.
Another attempt to give artistic expression to pride in Natty Bumppo was wrought in less permanent material.
Upon the drop-curtain on the stage of the Village Hall was painted the scene from The Pioneers which
represents Leather-Stocking, Judge Temple, and Edwards grouped about a deer that has been shot on the
border of the lake. In producing this scene the artist enlarged an illustration drawn by F. O. C. Darley for an
early edition of The Pioneers. The original scene described by Cooper, and as depicted by Darley, was a
wintry one, showing the lake shore in a mantle of snow. This was thought to be a bit too chilly for a
playhouse, so the view as transferred to the curtain was brightened up by the addition of green foliage; and
deft touches of the scene painter's brush, without altering the pose of any of the figures, changed winter into
glorious summer. Many a Cooperstown audience, waiting for the performance to begin, has studied the scene
which this curtain displays, not without wonder that Leather-Stocking is in furs, and that Judge Temple, in so
radiant a summertime, has taken the precaution to retain his earmuffs.
Natty Bumppo's Cave, a not very remarkable freak of nature which Fenimore Cooper's pen has made one of
the chief points of interest in the region of Cooperstown, is about a mile from the village, high up on the hill
that rises from the eastern side of the lake. It offers a stiff climb to the inexperienced, but not to others. It is
not [Pg 188]much of a cave, being hardly more than a deep and curiously formed cleft between the rocks.
From the platform of rock over the cave a magnificent view may be had of the lake and its more distant
shores, with the hills beyond.

C. A. Schneider
Natty Bumppo's Cave
In The Pioneers Cooper takes advantage of poetic license to enlarge the cave for the purpose of his story, but
the description is exact enough to identify it with the present Natty Bumppo's cave. In the summer of 1909
was discovered lower down the hillside another and larger cave, the small entrance of which, in the woods
beyond Kingfisher Tower, at Point Judith, had long remained unobserved. Here the name of Natty [Pg
189]Bumppo came near being involved in another controversy, for some local archeologists maintained that
the newly discovered cave was the one which Cooper meant to describe as Natty Bumppo's, being better
adapted to the requirements of the narrative than the one that tradition had fixed upon.
Cooper might have provided a better cave for Natty Bumppo, but he did not. On this point the testimony of
his eldest daughter, Susan Fenimore Cooper, is decisive. She was in many ways her father's confidant, and in
his later years closely associated with him in literary work. No other person has written so intimately of him.
In Pages and Pictures, which Miss Cooper published in 1861, she gives a drawing of Natty Bumppo's cave,
and it is the one that has been associated with the tradition and story of the village down to the present time. It
is quite possible, however, that the cave near Point Judith is the one referred to in the tradition of Nathaniel
Shipman of Hoosick Falls.
Natty Bumppo will live forever as a symbolic figure, representative of certain indigenous qualities in
American life. Lowell found in Leather-Stocking "the protagonist of our New World epic, a figure as poetic as

that of Achilles, as ideally representative as that of Don Quixote, as romantic in his relation to our homespun
and plebeian myths as Arthur in his to his mailed and plumed cycle of chivalry." Americans themselves do not
realize how widely, in other countries, Leather-Stocking is still regarded as typical of [Pg 190]certain qualities
in the American character. Among Americans who had half-forgotten their Cooper, there was no little surprise
at the exclamation of Gabriel Hanotaux, member of the French Academy, distinguished author and statesman
of France, when, in the spring of 1917, on the entrance of the United States into the war against Germany, he
expressed his joy in a message that was cabled round the world, "Old Leather-Stocking still slumbers in the
depth of the American soul!"
There is a point on Otsego Lake, opposite to Natty Bumppo's cave, from which passing boatmen awaken the
famous Echo of the Glimmerglass. For more than half of the nineteenth century there lived in the village a
negro whose lungs were renowned for their power to call forth the fullness of this strange echo. "Joe Tom," as
he was named, was always called upon, as the guide of lake excursions, to perform this peculiar duty.
Stationing his scow at the focal point, the negro would shout across the water, "Natty Bumppo! Natty
Bumppo!—Who's there?" And after a moment the cry would be flung back, as by the spirit of
Leather-Stocking, from the heights of the steep woods and rocky faces of the hill. On a still summer evening
Joe Tom was sometimes able, by a single shout, to call forth three distinct echoes, which were heard in regular
succession,—the first from the region of the cave, the second from Mount Vision, and the third from
Hannah's Hill on the opposite side of the lake, until the margin of the Glimmerglass seemed to resound [Pg
191]with cries of "Natty Bumppo!—Natty Bumppo!" uttered by eerie voices.
The years pass, and no other name retains such magic power to wake the sleeping echo of the Glimmerglass.
FOOTNOTES:
[92] Calvin Graves, who came to Cooperstown in 1794, and lived in the place for 84 years, is quoted as
saying that he well knew Shipman, the Leather-Stocking of Cooper's novels, and that Shipman was never
married. Graves said that he had often visited the old hunter's cave in company with him. This testimony
seems to point to the Hoosick Shipman, who having deserted his family for twenty-six years, might easily
pass for a bachelor in Otsego, and who is said to have lived in a cave, concerning which nothing is mentioned
in the traditions of David Shipman.
[Pg 192]
CHAPTER XI
STRANGE TALES OF THE GALLOWS

At the eastern end of the main street of the village the bridge across the Susquehanna River commands a view
for a short distance up and down the stream, far enough toward the north to glimpse its source in Otsego Lake,
while to the south Fernleigh House appears, high amid the trees on the western bank, and the drifting current
below is lost in foliage. Nearer at hand, as seen from the south side of the bridge, Riverbrink claims the
eastern shore. Here stands a solemn-visaged house that looks down upon the scene of one of the most
extraordinary dramas ever enacted beneath the gallows-tree.
CHAPTER XI 94
Riverbrink
In the summer of 1805, on the flat a little below the place where the house now stands, the gibbet was erected
for a public execution. The condemned man was Stephen Arnold, whose crime was committed in Burlington,
in this county, during the previous winter. Arnold was a school teacher, and having no children of his own,
had taken into his home Betsey Van Amburgh, a child six years of age. An ungovernable temper added a kind
of ferocious zeal to the duty of educating this child, for it was her inability to pronounce [Pg 193]the word
"gig" according to his directions that brought the teacher to the gallows. Betsey insisted on pronouncing the
word as "jig," and declared that she could not do otherwise. Whereupon Arnold took her out of the house into
the severely cold evening air, and there whipped her naked body until he himself became cold. He then took
her indoors to make her pronounce the word correctly, which she failed to do; and again she was taken out
and whipped in the same manner. This act of brutality he repeated seven [Pg 194]times, declaring that he "had
as lieve whip her to death as not." The poor child languished four days, and expired.
STRANGE TALES OF THE GALLOWS 95

Arnold's trial was held in June, in Cooperstown. He was speedily convicted of murder, and sentenced to die.
The date fixed for the execution, Friday, July 19, 1805, was a gala day in Cooperstown. The infamy of
Arnold's crime had stirred public indignation throughout this section of the State, and the prospect of
witnessing his execution had been eagerly anticipated, through motives ranging from morbid curiosity to a
stern sense of duty, in the most distant hamlets of the region. By seven o'clock in the morning on the day fixed
for the hanging the main street of Cooperstown was filled with people who had travelled from so great a
distance that not one in twenty was known to any of the villagers. The concourse increased until shortly after
noon, when, in the village which normally contained about five hundred people, the crowd included about
eight thousand.
The first centre of interest was the county courthouse and jail which stood at the then western limits of the
village, on the southeast corner of Main and Pioneer streets. The door of the jail was on the Pioneer street side
of the building, and across the way were the stocks and whipping-post. These rude symbols of justice might
well be a terror to evil doers. A sample of the punishment meted out to petty offenders is found in the record
that in 1791 a local physician was put in the stocks for having mixed an emetic with the [Pg 195]beverage
drunk at a ball given at the Red Lion Inn; and four years later a man was flogged at the whipping-post, for
stealing some pieces of ribbon. Both culprits were also banished from the village, apropos of which form of
punishment Fenimore Cooper at a later day was moved to remark, "It is to be regretted that it has fallen into
disuse."
The crowds that gathered to witness the hanging of Stephen Arnold filled the street in the neighborhood of the
jail until the prisoner was brought forth at noon, when some remained to watch the parade, while others
hurried on to the place of execution to secure good points of view for the spectacle. A procession was formed
in front of the court house under the direction of the sheriff. The ministers of religion and other gentlemen,
preceded by the sheriff on horseback, moved with funeral music after the prisoner, who was carried on a
wagon and guarded by a battalion of light infantry and a company of artillery. In this array the procession
moved solemnly down the main street and across the bridge to the place of execution on the east bank of the
river. There stood the gallows; at its foot was a coffin.
The condemned man was assisted to a seat upon his coffin. About him gathered the parsons, the
representatives of the law, and the soldiery. There was no house on the bank of the river at that time, and the
thousands of spectators were massed in the natural amphitheatre which rises, and then rose uninterrupted,
toward the east, from the shore of the Susquehanna.
[Pg 196]
An interested observer who looked down upon the assemblage from the high western bank of the river has
recorded a vivid impression of the beauty of the scene and the picturesque and emotional qualities of the
occasion.[93] Looking back toward the village, and then sweeping with a glance the north and east, his eye
caught the roofs of buildings covered with spectators, windows crowded with faces, every surrounding point
of view occupied. The natural amphitheatre across the river was "filled with all classes and gradations of
citizens, from the opulent landlord to the humble laborer. Blooming nymphs were there and jolly swains,
delicate ladies and spruce gentlemen, fond mothers and affectionate sisters, prattling children and hoary sages,
servile slaves and imperious masters." In the elevated background of the landscape carriages appeared filled
with people. It was a warm July day, brilliant with sunshine, and splendid in the greenery of summer foliage.
The throngs of spectators, tier upon tier, as it were, presented a kaleidoscopic effect of movement and color, in
the undulating appearance of silks and muslins of different hues, as the eye traversed the multitude; in the
swaying and bobbing of hundreds of umbrellas and parasols of various colors; in the vibration of thousands of
fans in playful mediation, while the death-struggle of a man upon the gallows was eagerly awaited. In the
foreground, on the bank of the Susquehanna, the gibbet, with the solemn [Pg 197]group about it, relieved only

by flashes of color in the military uniforms, and by the gleam of swords and bayonets, fascinated every eye.
A great silence fell upon the multitude when the preliminaries to the execution began with a prayer offered by
the Rev. Mr. Williams of Worcester. The Rev. Isaac Lewis, pastor of the Presbyterian church in Cooperstown,
then stood forth to deliver the sermon. Few preachers, even in the largest centres of life, have occasion to
address congregations numbered by thousands. What an opportunity was here given to an obscure country
parson, when he faced an audience of some eight thousand people! Mr. Lewis preached upon the subject of
the Penitent Thief, taking as his text the forty-second and forty-third verses of the twenty-third chapter of St.
Luke: "And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into Thy Kingdom. And Jesus said
unto him, Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in Paradise." Nothing is recorded of the sermon
beyond that it was "a pathetic, concise, and excellently adapted discourse." Elder Vining closed the religious
exercises by a solemn appeal to the throne of grace for mercy and forgiveness, as well for the vast auditory as
for the prisoner.
The condemned man seemed deeply affected, and perfectly resigned to the justice of his fate. His penitence
was manifest, and drew forth tears of sympathy from the spectators. After the exercises the prisoner seated
himself on the coffin for a short space, when he was informed that if [Pg 198]he wished to say anything to the
people he might now have opportunity. He arose and addressed a few words to the surrounding multitude,
earnestly urging them to be warned by his fatal example to place a strict guard upon their passions, the fatal
indulgence of which had brought him to the shameful condition in which they beheld him, notwithstanding he
never intended to commit murder. He concluded his address with these words: "It appears to me that if you
will not take warning at this affecting scene, you would not be warned though one should arise from the
dead."
At the conclusion of this speech the sheriff stepped forward and made ready for the hanging, finally adjusting
the fatal cord, except for fastening it to the beam of the gallows.
Near by was a palsied crone, so eager to witness the hanging that she had been carried to the scene in her
rocking-chair, which was placed upon an improvised platform. Here she had rocked to and fro in her chair
during the whole proceeding, until, when the hangman made ready his noose, the old hag rocked with such
nervous violence that she toppled over backward, chair and all, her neck being broken by the fall.
The prisoner remained apparently absorbed in meditation which was entirely abstracted from terrestrial
objects. The thousands of spectators waited in silent and gloomy suspense for the final catastrophe. The
sheriff stood forth and addressed to the condemned man a few remarks pertinent to the occasion.
Having carried the proceedings to this crucial [Pg 199]point, the sheriff, Solomon Martin, then changed his
role, and produced from his pocket a letter from his excellency Morgan Lewis, Governor of the State of New
York, containing directions for a respite of the execution until further orders, and announcing that a reprieve,
in due form, would soon be forwarded.
It was now long after noon, and the sheriff, having received this letter at nine o'clock in the morning, had kept
it in his pocket during the entire proceedings, "conceiving it improper to divulge the respite until the crisis."
The sheriff had acted with the advice of a few others who were let into the secret. Even the attending ministers
of religion were uninformed of the respite until it was dramatically produced upon the stage. The thing, in
fact, outdid all stagecraft, for while it is quite consistent with the traditions of theatrical art that an execution
should be stayed at the critical moment by the appearance of a furiously galloping horseman waving a
reprieve above his head, probably never elsewhere in the history of the drama or in the annals of the law has
the official document been produced at the gallows, after the adjustment of the fatal noose, from the pocket of
the hangman!

In the judgment of the sheriff it appeared that since the order for a respite had arrived too late to forestall the
gathering of great multitudes to witness the hanging, it was equally clear that it had come too early to be made
public at once without causing unnecessary disappointment to thousands who were still enjoying the ecstasies
of [Pg 200]anticipation. So he carried out the original programme to the letter, going through with all the
preliminaries and forms of the execution, stopping short only of the actual hanging.
When the sheriff made his amazing announcement from the scaffold, the prisoner swooned, and the whole
scene was changed. The prisoner was reconducted to the jail with the same pomp and bravery of troops and
music that had brought him to the scaffold. The spectators slowly dispersed, and before sunset the village
assumed its accustomed tranquility.
The next issue of The Otsego Herald asserted that "the proceedings of the day were opened, progressed, and
closed in a manner which reflected honor on the judiciary, the executive, the clergy, the military, and the
citizens of the county."
Arnold was never hanged. The State legislature commuted his sentence to imprisonment for life.
Another story of the gallows belongs to a later period. On Friday, August 24, 1827, the hanging of a man
named Strang was witnessed in Albany by about thirty thousand spectators. Judging from contemporary
accounts, the circumstances of the execution were not edifying. "We are more than ever convinced," said the
Albany Gazette, "of the bad effect of public executions. Scenes of the most disgraceful drunkenness,
gambling, profanity, and almost all kinds of debauchery, were exhibited in the vicinity of the gallows, and
even at the time the culprit was suffering. We do most sincerely hope that some [Pg 201]law may be enacted
requiring that executions shall be performed in private." The Albany Argus was more hopeful of some moral
benefit from the execution. "Whilst we may question the utility," it said, "of such spectacles, tending as they
do in general, to gratify a morbid curiosity, and to excite a sympathy for the criminal rather than an
abhorrence, and consequently a prevention of crime; we trust none who were witnesses of the scene, will
forget that this ignominious death was the consequence of an indulgence of vicious courses and criminal
passions."
Preliminary to the hanging there was the usual speech from the gallows. Addressing the multitude the
condemned murderer said he hoped his execution would lead them to reflect upon the effects of sin and lust,
and induce them to avoid those acts for which he was about to suffer a painful and ignominious death.
Among the spectators at this hanging was Levi Kelley of Cooperstown, who, in order to witness the spectacle,
had covered a distance of 75 miles, drawn by his favorite team of black horses, a noble span, of which he was
very proud. Kelley was much depressed in spirit by the dreadful scene at the gallows, and to a friend who
accompanied him on the homeward journey remarked that no one who had ever witnessed such a melancholy
spectacle could ever be guilty of the crime of murder.
In Christ churchyard in Cooperstown, near the southern border of the burial ground, and about twenty paces
from River Street, stands a [Pg 202]tombstone which commemorates a former resident of the village, and is
unusual for the precision of terms in which it records the date of his decease; for there is inscribed not merely
the day, but the very hour, of death. The inscription reads:
In memory of
Abraham Spafard
who died
at 8 o'clock P. M.
3d. Sept. 1827
in the 49th year of

his age.
The trump shall sound
and the dead shall be raised.
The passer-by who suspects a concealed significance in this desire to emphasize the exact hour of Abraham
Spafard's death is not mistaken. Abraham Spafard was murdered, shot to the heart by Levi Kelley, and died
almost instantly, at 8 o'clock in the evening, September 3, 1827, just ten days after Kelley had witnessed the
hanging in Albany.
The murderer is buried in the same churchyard with his victim. For Kelley, on the maternal side, was a
connection of the Cooper family. During his imprisonment before and after the trial he was frequently visited
at the jail by Mrs. George Pomeroy, daughter of William Cooper, a lady noted for her many works of
Christian charity, and after Kelley had paid the penalty of his crime, she brought it about that his body was
interred in the Cooper plot in Christ churchyard, although [Pg 203]no stone was ever raised to mark the place
of his burial, and the exact spot is now unknown.
The murder occurred in the house of Levi Kelley, in which Abraham Spafard lived as tenant in Pierstown,
about three miles north of Cooperstown. Kelley was noted for his furious outbursts of temper, while Spafard
was of an amiable and peaceable disposition. Kelley violently attacked a lame boy who was employed about
the place, and when Spafard interposed, Kelley's anger turned against Spafard, so that a struggle ensued. The
evidence at the trial showed that Spafard struck no blow and committed no violence, using no more force than
was necessary for his defence. He besought Kelley to desist, and at last, unclenching Kelley's hands from his
throat, Spafard retired quietly into the house. Kelley then ran for his gun, and following Spafard into his room,
shot him to the heart. Kelley's own wife, as well as the members of Spafard's family, were the terrified
witnesses of the murder.
Kelley's trial, which was held in Cooperstown, began on the twenty-first of November, and was concluded on
the next day. The judge in the case was the Hon. Samuel Nelson, afterward associate justice of the Supreme
Court of the United States. In passing sentence Judge Nelson addressed to the prisoner a homily which created
a deep impression upon the crowded court room.
The execution of Levi Kelley was attended by an immense concourse of people. The hanging of a murderer
was still regarded by many, in that day, not only as fit method of punishment, [Pg 204]but as offering a
spectacle of great moral and educational value. It was at once a deterrent from crime and a vindication of the
majesty of the law. When the day set for the execution of Kelley was come, there was many a home in which
the father of the family announced at breakfast that the children must be duly washed and dressed in Sabbath
array, to accompany him, as in duty bound, to the solemn spectacle. Nor were all attracted to the dreadful
scene by a sense of duty only, perhaps, at a period when public shows were few.
The gibbet was erected, amid the December snow, at a point about four hundred feet south of the site
occupied by the present High School, very near, if not in the midst of, what is now Chestnut Street. Christmas
Day was followed by a thaw, and on Friday, the day set for the execution, a torrent of rain fell during the
morning hours. Yet before noon the village was thronged with a multitude of men, women and children,
keenly anticipating the gruesome tragedy, until more than four thousand people were gathered about the
gallows.
The court-house and jail stood then not far from their present site. The procession from the jail to the place of
execution was conducted with much military pomp. Two marshals, each mounted on a prancing steed, led a
troop of cavalry, a corps of artillery, and four companies of infantry. This formidable array of forces, drawn
up in a hollow square at the jail, having enclosed within its ranks the condemned man and the [Pg
205]attending ministers of the Gospel, moved solemnly to the place of execution. The prisoner, apparently in

a feeble state of health, lay upon a bed in a sleigh drawn by his favorite black horses, the same that he had
driven to Albany to witness the execution of Strang. The ministers of religion, the Rev. Mr. Potter and the
Rev. John Smith, pastor of the Presbyterian church, rode in state in the two sleighs that followed.
Near the gallows there had been erected for the accommodation of spectators a staging one hundred feet in
length and twelve feet in depth, the front being elevated six feet and the rear eight feet from the ground. From
this structure about six hundred people commanded an excellent view of the gibbet, while some three
thousand others, lacking this advantage, jostled each other, craning their necks, and standing on tiptoe, to see
what was going forward.
The procession from the jail had arrived upon the grounds, and the solemnities were about to commence,
when the staging suddenly gave way and fell with a tremendous crash. The spectators upon it were plunged
into a confused heap, struggling for freedom amid the broken timbers. The shrieks and groans that arose from
the scrimmage terrified the assemblage, and the wild rush of anxious friends and relatives toward the scene of
accident resulted almost in a riot. When order had been in some measure restored the work of rescue began.
Between twenty and thirty persons were drawn forth from the wreckage severely injured. Elisha C. Tracy, an
engraver, was found [Pg 206]to be dead, the upper part of his face being crushed inward to the depth of more
than an inch. Daniel Williams, an elderly man resident at Richfield, had a leg and arm broken, and died a few
hours later. The dead and wounded were carried from the field, and some of the spectators, having had enough
of tragedy, withdrew.
The ceremonies of the execution then proceeded, although amid an atmosphere of intense nervous excitement.
The condemned man was taken from his sleigh, and, because of his illness, required assistance in ascending
the gallows. As he stood there, the centre of all eyes, he seemed a different man from the passionate murderer
of Abraham Spafard. Weak and sick, he looked down upon the multitude assembled to see him die. His look
was one of regretful sympathy because of the unexpected accident rather than of fear of his own impending
fate. "Who are killed; and how many are injured?" he inquired.
The rope was noosed about Kelley's neck. The Presbyterian minister stepped forward, and commended the
convict's soul to the mercy of God in a prayer in which Kelley, with bowed head, seemed to participate. Then
the drop fell. After a few twitchings of the limbs, the body quivered, and hung still. The show was over. The
crowd dispersed.
The effect of this exhibition was to give voice to a growing sentiment against public hangings. The next issue
of the Freeman's Journal protested against such spectacles as demoralizing, and suggested a movement in the
State legislature to [Pg 207]amend the law. Kelley's was in fact the last public hanging in Cooperstown.
The execution of Levi Kelley, with its unexpected accompanying catastrophe, was long the talk of the
neighborhood. It was commemorated by Isaac Squire, an Otsego rhymester, in some verses that are of curious
interest as a survival of the old ballad form in which events were wont to be celebrated. Many years afterward
there were those who recalled that the doleful lines were committed to memory by some of the village
children, and sung to a droning tune:
LINES ON THE EXECUTION OF LEVI KELLEY.

Part First
In eighteen hundred twenty seven
Poor Kelley broke the law of Heaven;
He murdered his poor tenant there,
Who took his place to work on share.
'Twas early on a Monday night
This horrid scene was brought to light;

He seized his loaded gun in hand,
And with malicious fury ran,
And when about four feet apart,
Alas! he shot him to the heart.
The expiring words, we understand,
Were, "O Lord, I'm a dying man!"
They quickly ran him to relieve,
But death could grant him no reprieve;
He expired almost instantly,
In his affrighted family.
[Pg 208]Kelley's indicted for the crime;
Confined in prison for a time;
A murderer here can take no rest,
While guilt lies heavy on his breast.
November on the twenty-first,
For murder of a fellow dust,
He was arraigned before the bar,
And tried by his country there.
Full testimony did appear
That when the Jury came to hear
In verdict they were soon agreed
That he was guilty of this deed.
And in their verdict they did bring
That cause of death was found in him;
The Judge his sentence did declare,
And thus declared him guilty there:
"Your time is set, O do remember,
The twenty-eighth of December,
Between the hours of twelve and three,
Be launched into eternity.
"Your time is short on earth to stay;
Prepare for death without delay;
Though you no pity showed at all,
May God have mercy on your soul."
Part Second.
December on the twenty-eighth
Did Levi Kelley meet his fate;
This awful scene I now relate
Caused thousands there to fear and quake.
[Pg 209]Though wet and rainy was the day,
The people thronged from every way;
With anxious thought each came to see
The unhappy fate of poor Kelley.
The day was come, the time drew near,
When the poor prisoner must appear;
The officers they did prepare,
And round him formed a hollow square,
That they with safety might convey
Him to the place of destiny;
The music made a solemn sound
While they marched slowly to the ground.

A scaffold was erected there,
And hundreds on it did repair,
That all thereon might plainly see
The unhappy fate of poor Kelley.
Before they bid this scene adieu,
An awful sight appeared in view.
See, hundreds with the scaffold fall!
And some to rise no more at all
Till the great day when all shall rise,
To their great joy or sad surprise,
And hear their sentence "Doomed to Hell,"
Or, "With the saints in glory dwell."
The wounded here in numbers lie,
And loud for help now some do cry
While others are too faint to speak,
And some in death's cold arms asleep.
[Pg 210]The cry was heard once and again
That "Hundreds now we fear are slain!"
But God in this distressing hour
Revives again each withering flower.
Poor Kelley, in this trying time,
Was executed for his crime.
He hung an awful sight to see;
May this a solemn warning be.
A word to such, before we close,
That love the way poor Kelley chose;
Their vicious ways if you attend
Will bring you to some awful end.
FOOTNOTES:
[93] Otsego Herald, July 19, 1805.
[Pg 211]
CHAPTER XII
SOLID SURVIVALS
The property which now includes Edgewater was inherited by Isaac Cooper, the second son of Judge Cooper,
on the death of his father in 1809. In the following year he began the erection of the house, which took nearly
four years in building. Aside from its now venerable aspect, this solid residence, constructed of old-fashioned
brick, preserves much of its original appearance as one of the largest dwellings in the village. It was modeled
after a colonial residence in Philadelphia well known to the Cooper family. The style of the entrance hall, with
the balanced symmetry of semicircular stairways that ascend to the upper floor, is singularly effective, while
the carved wood of the interior, as seen in the doorcaps and mouldings, displays skillful workmanship. No
house in Cooperstown commands so fine a general view of Otsego Lake as that which is to be seen from the
porch of Edgewater. The surrounding ground includes over two acres, and extends to the waters of the lake,
although now traversed by Lake Street, which made its way, by long usage, across the original property. The
house is approached through the paths of an old time garden, [Pg 212]thickly grown with shrubs, and shaded
by a variety of trees.
CHAPTER XII 102

Edgewater
Isaac Cooper had married Mary Ann, daughter of General Jacob Morris, of Morris, Otsego county, and took
possession of Edgewater as his residence on December 4, 1813. It is not difficult to understand the feeling of
satisfaction, on being established in this beautiful home, which prompted Isaac Cooper, at the age of
thirty-two years, to record the event in his diary thus:
Moved—where I hope to end my Days—and I pray Heaven to allow this House and this
Lot—whereon I this day brought my Family, to descend to my children and to [Pg 213]my children's
children, and may they increase in virtue and respectability, and become worthy of the blessings of Heaven.
This diary is hardly more than a record of weather, with a single line of "general observations," under which
head, from day to day, he makes brief mention of his doings, social engagements; births, marriages, and
deaths among his friends; his own frequent illnesses: occasionally he moralizes, or indulges in a bit of
self-criticism. A few entries selected from Isaac Cooper's diary will show its general character. It will be
noticed that he refers to himself in the third person as "Mr. C." or "Mr. Cooper."
August 20, 1814—New waggon paraded, to the admiration of the villagers.
August 30—Quilting party at Mrs. Pomeroy's—very pleasant.
January 4, 1815—Cate, Mr. Prentiss married.
SOLID SURVIVALS 103

February 7—Time passes heavily! Good reason why!
August 8—Laid corner brick of Morrell's & Prentiss' House.
July 30, 1816—Tea Party at Mrs. Poms. Also a party on the Lake. Major Prevost fell overboard.
October 5—Done quilting, thank fortune.
October 25—Mr. C. set out plum trees in back yard.
October 28—Mr. C. fell down stairs last night. Don't feel so well for it.
November 13—Took in some pork.
November 16—Mr. Phinney played backgammon with Mrs. Cooper this evening.
[Pg 214]November 27—A Milliner arrived with an assortment of elegant cheap hats. (Sold a twelve
dollar one! I wonder who to?)
November 28—A mystery dissolved. Mrs. Starkweather was the purchaser of the hat.
December 4—Mrs. Cooper's neck washed—good!
December 5—A dinner party at Mr. J. Cooper's.
December 13—Dipped 700 candles.
December 16—Wine and Brandy tap't. Head combed.
February 7, 1817—Tea Party—30 besides us, viz; Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, the Miss Starrs, Mr.
and Mrs. Dr. Pomeroys, Mr. and Mrs. George Pomeroy, Mr. and Mrs. E. Phinney, Miss Tiffany, Miss
Talmage, Miss Shankland, the Misses Fuller, H. Phinney, Mr. Aitchison, Mr. Lyman, Mr. Crafts, Mr. Stewart,
Mr. and Mrs. Morrell, Mr. and Mrs. Webb, Miss Edmonds, Miss Webb, Mrs. Prentiss, Mrs. Dr. Webb, Mrs.
Russell, Mrs. Williams.
February 17—72 loads of wood last week, making my supply for 1817, say 200 loads, exclusive of
office.
February 22—Dr. Pomeroy, Mr. George Pomeroy, and Col. Seth Pomeroy spent the eve. here.
April 1—A barrel of Pork, this day opened. Robins killed yesterday by A. L. J., a sin.
May 9—Mr. Cooper feels for all mankind.
September 12—The Old Lady very ill.
September 13—Mrs. Elizabeth Cooper departed this life.
October 18—Mr. Gratz breakfasted here.
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Concerning some settlements in the region, much has been written of the spirit of democracy in which they
were established, and it has been pointed out that all social distinctions were levelled in the common tasks of
frontier life. It [Pg 215]does not appear that this was the case in Cooperstown. From the time of the first
settlement, apparently, an aristocratic group was formed in the orbit of the Cooper nucleus, and social
climbing began before the wolves and bears had been quite driven from the forests of Otsego. The tea party of
February 7, 1817, mentioned in the diary, probably names most of those who were at that time admitted to the
inner circle of the socially elect; another entry, dated December 31, 1816, relates to a different social sphere,
and unconsciously reveals the great gulf which had already been fixed between the one and the other, together
with the aristocrat's supercilious astonishment that "that class of society" is in some respects quite as desirable
as his own:
This New Year's eve there was a ball at the Hotel (Col. Henry's), a very decently conducted and a very
respectable assemblage of the worthy mechanics and that class of society. I was present, and would not wish
to see better conduct, better dress, and better looking Ladies!!! There was perfect neatness of dress, without as
much Indian finery as I have seen where they suppose they know better.
Another glimpse into the depth of the social gulf is obtained in the back pages of Isaac Cooper's diary, where
he records his accounts for wages with the household servants. There is this entry, signed by the humble
cross-mark of Betsey Wallby, who "came to work on March 20, 1815, at one dollar a week":
[Pg 216]
March 20, 1816—By one year's services, faithfully and orderly performed—free from Yankee
dignity, and ideas of Liberty—which is insolence only. $52.00.
On New Year's day, 1818, death came to Isaac Cooper at Edgewater, and he was laid at rest in Christ
churchyard with the humblest pioneers of the hamlet. Only for a little more than four years had he enjoyed the
home which he established at Edgewater.
In Isaac Cooper's diary, by another hand, these words were added:
September, 1823—Sold our house. Necessity compelled us.
Shortly before the house was vacated by the family of Isaac Cooper, the garden of Edgewater was the scene of
a pretty romance. Isaac Cooper's second daughter, Elizabeth Fenimore, was a child of rare beauty, and as she
began to grow toward womanhood became renowned for wit and loveliness. Strictly guarded by the
conventional proprieties, Elizabeth made glorious excursions into the realm of fancy, where errant knights are
ever in search of fair ladies to deliver them from castle dungeons. Edgewater, with the freedom of its garden,
was a pleasant sort of prison, but Elizabeth was not less gratified when the knight of her dreams actually
appeared in the person of a young college student who was spending his summer vacation in
Cooperstown—Samuel Wootton Beall, a native of Maryland. Summer [Pg 217]evenings in Edgewater
garden passed quickly away, and there came a night of farewell, for on the next day young Beall must return
to his college, and to long months of Greek, Latin, and mathematics. On that night the young man brought a
Methodist minister into the garden with him. There was a mysterious signal. Elizabeth Fenimore Cooper
glided out of the house, and joined the two in darkness. They stood beneath the locust tree which rose just east
of the front steps, while in low voices the young lovers took their vows, and the parson pronounced them man
and wife. The bride immediately crept back into the house, thrilling with her secret, while the bridegroom
went his way, and on the next day was gone.
Nothing was said of the wedding until Samuel Beall was graduated from college, and returned to
Cooperstown to claim his wife. Beyond the extreme youth of the couple, there was really no objection to the
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match. Mrs. Cooper was astonished at the announcement, but gave her blessing to the union. Only one
condition she exacted. Shocked at the informality of their wedding, she required them to be remarried with the
full rites of the Church.
Young Beall and his wife went West, where he prospered, and, returning to Cooperstown in 1836, purchased
Woodside as their residence. After a few years at Woodside, they settled once more in the West.
In Edgewater garden the locust that sheltered the secret marriage was long known as the Bridal [Pg 218]Tree,
and grew to lofty size. In the winter of 1908 the first fall of snow came upon the wings of a great wind.
During the night the big locust fell crashing to the ground, and in the morning was found covered with a
mantle of virgin snow, gleaming white like a bridal veil.
In 1828, Edgewater having passed into the hands of a company which had organized to establish a seminary
for girls, the house was rearranged for such occupancy. The numerals which then marked the rooms of the
students are still to be seen on the doorways of the top floor. The school was a financial failure, and in 1834
the trustees sold Edgewater as a summer residence to Theodore Keese of New York, who, eight years
previously, had married the eldest daughter of George Pomeroy and Ann Cooper, sister of Isaac Cooper. Thus
the property came back into the family of the original owner.
In 1836 Mr. and Mrs. Keese came to Cooperstown to live, and their eight-year-old son, George Pomeroy
Keese, then began a residence at Edgewater that continued for seventy-four years. In 1849, at the age of
twenty-one years, he brought to Edgewater his bride, Caroline Adriance Foote, a daughter of Surgeon Lyman
Foote, of the United States Army. In this house their eight children were born, and all of these, with the
exception of one who died in infancy, lived to celebrate the sixtieth wedding anniversary which their parents
commemorated with a notable gathering of friends at Edgewater in the autumn of 1909. [Pg 219]Living to old
age in perfect health of body and mind Mr. and Mrs. Keese made Edgewater a famous centre of hospitality.
During this long residence in Cooperstown Pomeroy Keese stood in the forefront of its affairs, and came to
occupy a unique position in the life of the village. In boyhood, as the grand-nephew of Fenimore Cooper, he
was brought into close contact with the novelist, and at the beginning of the twentieth century was one of the
few residents of the village who distinctly recalled the famous writer's personality. He was best known to the
business world as president for nearly forty years of the Second National Bank of Cooperstown, but the
qualities that made him so interesting a figure lay rather in the many avocations of his life. He was senior
warden of Christ Church at the time of his death, and had been a member of its vestry for more than half a
century. Of thirteen successive rectors of Christ Church he had known all but Father Nash, the first. For the
old village church, surrounded with its quaint tombs and overshadowing pines, he had a love that seemed
about to call forth the response of personality from things inanimate.
On the streets of Cooperstown, in his later years, G. Pomeroy Keese was a picturesque and characteristic
figure. His face seemed weather-beaten rather than old; his eye was like that of a sailor, with a focus for
distant horizons; the style of thin side-whisker affected by a former generation gave full play to every
expression of his countenance. It was a common sight, of a [Pg 220]winter's day, to glimpse his slight and
dapper form with quick step ambling to the post-office, while, quite innocent of overcoat, he compromised
with the frosty air by clasping his hands, one over the other, across his chest, as a means of keeping warm!
Pomeroy Keese was somewhat contemptuous toward mufflers, arctics, and other toggery which Otsego
winters imposed upon his neighbors. He seemed immune against the assault of climatic rigors. His attitude
toward the weather was confidential, for he was the most weatherwise of men. He kept a daily record of the
weather, with accurate meteorological data, for more than half a century, and for many years furnished the
local official figures for the United States weather bureau. From his experience he originated the theory that,
while seasons from year to year appear to differ widely in their character, the temperature and precipitation
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within the compass of each year actually reach the same general average. It seemed to cause him real
annoyance when a period of weather departed too widely from the usual average, yet if a cold snap or hot
spell was generous enough to break all previous records his enthusiasm was boundless.
An equally substantial though smaller house that antedated Edgewater by a few years was erected in the
summer of 1802 by John Miller as a farm house. It was built of bricks, and was the second building in the
place that was not constructed of wood. It stands at the southwest corner of Pine Street and Lake Street, facing
the [Pg 221]latter, and the dense evergreen hedge which surrounds the house seems to hold it aloof from the
later growth of the village. It is said that the house is haunted, for not long after it was built a tenant of the
place murdered his wife by smothering her with a pillow in her bedroom, and for many years it was rumored
that occupants of the house occasionally were terrified by muffled sounds of moaning as of one in mortal
agony.
C. A. Schneider
Residence of William H. Averell and Judge Prentiss
The building referred to in Isaac Cooper's diary as "Morrell's and Prentiss' house" includes the two brick
houses on Main Street which stand conjoined just east of the Village Club and [Pg 222]Library. Judge Morrell
went West, and his house, the more westerly of the two, became better known as the property of its later
owner, William Holt Averell, whose descendants continued to occupy it a century after him. The adjoining
house, built by Col. Prentiss, remained after his death in possession of his family, and his daughter, Mrs.
Charlotte Prentiss Browning, lived to celebrate its centennial.
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Col. John H. Prentiss, for more than half a century a resident, and for forty years editor of the Freeman's
Journal, was a notable figure in Cooperstown. Under his editorial management the Freeman's Journal became
a strong political organ, and exercised an influence that made Otsego one of the stanchest Democratic
counties in the State of New York. Col. Prentiss represented his district in Congress during the four years of
Van Buren's administration, having been reelected at the expiration of his first term. It was at this time that his
next door neighbor, William Holt Averell, was a candidate for Congress on the Whig ticket. The first returns
indicated that Averell had been elected, and there was a noisy demonstration by Averell's supporters in front
of his residence, bringing him forth for a speech which was received with great enthusiasm. The returns came
in slowly in those days, and a day or two had passed before it was learned that Prentiss had been elected, and
his doorstep became the scene of another jubilation. According to the recollections of some this seesawing of
returns occurred more than once, and the two [Pg 223]neighbors, whose friendship was not interrupted by
their political antagonisms, each joined in the demonstration in honor of the other.
A large part of the work of publishing his newspaper was done by Judge Prentiss himself. Besides being sole
editor, he attended to the financial department, and for forty years, except while in Congress, he gave his
personal attention in the printing office to the mechanical department. A later writer recalls often seeing Col.
Prentiss in the press-room, with coat off, sleeves rolled up, either inking the type with two large soft balls, or
pulling at the lever of the old Ramage press. He describes him as "an industrious, energetic man, a little
inclined to aristocratic bearing, but open, frank and cordial with his friends."
The last appearance of Col. Prentiss in public life, from which he had previously kept aloof for several years,
was as a delegate to the Democratic State convention which was held in Albany on February 1, 1861. In that
body of distinguished and able men, of which he was one of the vice-presidents, he attracted much attention,
and the question was frequently asked by those in attendance, referring to Col. Prentiss, "Who is that large,
fine-looking old gentleman, with white, flowing hair?"[94]
Colonel Prentiss's next door neighbor, William Holt Averell, son of James Averell, Jr., was for more than half
a century one of the most prominent citizens of the village, who did more perhaps [Pg 224]than any other for
its financial development. He was one of the first directors and for many years president of the Otsego County
Bank, the original of the present First National Bank, and for which the building across the way from his
house, now used as the Clark Estate office, was erected in 1831. As he issued every day from the doorway of
this building with its portico of fluted columns, his figure was exactly such as the imagination might now
devise as most in harmony with the surroundings; for in his youth Averell was extremely punctilious in his
dress, being a very handsome man, and for many years it was his custom to wear a white beaver hat, and
ruffled shirt, with ruffles at the cuffs that set off to good advantage his small and delicate hands. He did all his
reading and work at night. Those who passed his windows at a late hour were sure to glimpse him bending
over his desk, and nobody else in Cooperstown went to bed late enough to see his lamp extinguished, for the
servants often found him still at work when they came to summon him to breakfast in the morning. He lived
long enough to be regarded as a gentleman of the old school, positive and dogmatic in his opinions, which
were usually those of a minority, but which he defended with the resourcefulness of a brilliant and
well-trained mind.
In 1813 Henry Phinney, one of the two sons of Elihu Phinney, began the construction of the large brick house
on Chestnut street now known as "Willowbrook," and completed it three years later. In Cooper's Chronicles of
Cooperstown [Pg 225]several houses "of respectable dimensions and of genteel finish" are mentioned as
having been erected between the years of 1820 and 1835. Among these is the house of Elihu Phinney, the
younger son of the pioneer, which still stands on Pioneer Street opposite to the Universalist church. It is of
brick, partly surrounded by a veranda, and exquisite in many details of construction, much of the interior
woodwork being notable in excellence of chaste design.
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During this same general period several houses of stone were erected that still remain among the most solid
and attractive in Cooperstown. William Nichols built Greystone, the fine old residence that stands at the
southwest corner of Fair and Lake streets; Ellory Cory erected the house on the west side of Pioneer Street
near Lake Street; John Hannay set a new standard for the western part of the village when he put up on the
north side of Main Street, not far from Chestnut Street, the dignified residence now occupied by the Mohican
Club. In 1827 the low structures of stone which stand on the east side of Pioneer Street, between Main and
Church street, were erected; and in 1828 the three-story stone building on the north side of Main Street,
midway between Pioneer and Chestnut streets, was an important addition to the business section of the
village.
Forrest D. Coleman
Woodside Hall
A country-house of classic poise and symmetry was designed in 1829, when Eben B. Morehouse purchased a
few acres from the Bowers estate, on the side of Mount Vision, at the point where the old state road made its
first turn to ascend the [Pg 226]mountain, and there erected the dwelling called Woodside Hall. For many
years an Indian wigwam stood on the site now occupied by Woodside. This old stone house, set on the hillside
against a background of dense pine forest, has an air of singular dignity and repose. Standing at the head of
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the ascending road which continues the main street of the village, Woodside, with its row of columns
gleaming white amid the living green of the forest, may be seen from almost any point along the main
thoroughfare of Cooperstown. It is approached from the highway by a rise of [Pg 227]ground, where the
Egyptian gate-tower adds a fanciful interest to the entrance, with glimpses of the terraced lawn and garden
that climb toward the house. In summer, on gaining the porch, one looks back upon a mass of foliage beneath
which Cooperstown lies concealed, except for a vista that traverses the length of the village and rises to the
pines that crown the hills beyond; while a glance toward the north sweeps across the surface of the lake to its
western shore. The woods that come down almost to the house are composed of pines and hemlocks of
splendid proportions and great antiquity, lending a shadowy atmosphere of mystery to the environs of
Woodside Hall.
The charm and grace of this residence seem to reflect certain qualities in the character of Judge Eben B.
Morehouse, who designed it as his home. For he is described as a man of rare personality and unusual culture,
whose intellectual ability gave him exceptional rank in his profession. He was district attorney in 1829,
member of Assembly in 1831, and became a justice of the Supreme Court of the State in 1847. Mrs.
Morehouse, a daughter of Dr. Fuller, one of the pioneer physicians of Cooperstown, was a woman of many
social gifts, and established traditions of hospitality and festivity at Woodside.
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Walter C. Stokes
The Gate-Tower at Woodside
In 1836 Judge Morehouse suffered reverses of fortune, and when he had sold Woodside to Samuel W. Beall,
took up his residence in a modest cottage in the village. It was said of Judge Morehouse that, during this
period, in walking about the village streets, he was careful never to raise [Pg 228]his eyes toward Woodside,
and, if occasion brought him in the vicinity of his old home, he passed it with averted face. After a few years
he was able, to his great joy, to buy Woodside back again, and he continued residence there until his death in
1849.
A President of the United States was once lost in the grounds of Woodside. It was in 1839, when Judge
Morehouse gave a large evening reception for President Martin Van Buren. After the reception, when the
guests were departed, [Pg 229]Mr. Van Buren and a friend who accompanied him became separated from
their companions, and lost their way in attempting to find the gate-tower. For a long time they wandered and
groped about in the darkness of the grounds, finally returning to the house for a guide and a lantern, just as the
family were going to bed.
In 1856 Mrs. Morehouse sold Woodside to the Hon. Joseph L. White, whose family entertained generously
and delightfully. White was a distinguished lawyer of New York, and one of the most famous stump orators of
his time. He became identified with the early days of the Nicaragua Canal project. While at work on the
isthmus he was killed by the bullet of an assassin.
After the death of White, the place was bought by John F. Scott, whose family were among the earliest settlers
in Springfield at the head of the lake.
In 1895 Woodside was purchased by Walter C. Stokes of New York. Mr. and Mrs. Stokes, occupying
Woodside as a summer home, gave it new embellishment, and revived the traditions of its hospitality.
At the extreme northwest margin of the lake there is a little cove, with a landing, near which one ascends from
the shore by means of a swaying board walk over swampy ground, where flags and forget-me-nots bloom
luxuriantly during summer days, and fireflies hold carnival at night. At the top of the slope stands
"Swanswick," a cottage-like and rambling house whose rear windows look down the lake, while the low
veranda in front [Pg 230]opens upon a lawn and quiet lily-padded pond, a mill-pond originally, for near at
hand are the falls that operated Low's mills, in the days of the pioneers. Swanswick stands upon the site of a
house erected in 1762, the first ever inhabited by a white man on the shore of Otsego Lake. The present house
was built after the Revolution by Colonel Richard Cary, one of Washington's aides, and the place was called
Rose Lawn. General Washington was a guest here when he made his visit in Otsego in 1783, and a ball was
given in his honor. The daughter of the house was Anne Low Cary who married Richard Cooper, and [Pg
231]after his death became the wife of George Hyde Clarke, who built Hyde Hall. She inherited Rose Lawn
from her mother, and gave it to her son, Alfred Cooper Clarke. The latter was childless, and left the place to
his nephew, Leslie Pell, who belonged to the well known Pell family of New York and Newport, and who
assumed legally the name of Clarke.
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Swanswick
Leslie Pell-Clarke married the charming Henrietta Temple, a cousin of Henry James the novelist, and of
William James, the psychologist. He changed the name of the place to Swanswick, and lived there from the
early 'seventies until his death in 1904. The Pell-Clarkes made Swanswick known as a haven of good cheer
for miles around. The old house, simple in its lines and modest in proportions, had an air of singular
distinction. The library in the west wing, with its curious skylight, and bookcases well stocked with the classic
favorites of an English country gentleman, was a revelation to the connoisseur of old volumes; and the whole
house was full of quaintly delightful surprises. It was the master of the house himself who gave to the place its
atmosphere. He was ideally the centre of things, especially when he sat in the library reading aloud from some
favorite author, which he did always with perfect justice of expression, and in a voice of unrivalled melody.
He was a lover of outdoor life, and laid out on his own property at the head of the lake the golf grounds now
managed by the Otsego Golf Club, the oldest links of any in America that have been maintained on their
original course. [Pg 232]Mr. and Mrs. Pell-Clarke were reckoned and beloved as partly belonging to
Cooperstown, for they drove down from the head of the lake almost daily, drawn by the whitish speckled
horses, Pepper and Salt, that everybody came to know. Pell-Clarke had the frame and bearing of an athlete.
Tall, with clean-cut features, he was one of the handsomest men of his time, a noble and brilliant soul, an
exuberant and fascinating personality.
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A country-seat that may be described as unique in all America, Hyde Hall, lies nestled in the haunches of the
Sleeping Lion, toward the head of Otsego Lake. "The Sleeping Lion" is Cooperstown's nickname for Mount
Wellington, the wooded hill that stretches along the northern margin of the Glimmerglass. The formal name
was given to Mount Wellington by the builder of Hyde Hall, in honor of his famous classmate at Eton, in
England. When this mountain is viewed from Cooperstown the aptness of the more familiar, descriptive
term—the Sleeping Lion—becomes evident. In spite of its distance from the village, Hyde Hall
has its place not only in the view but in the story of Cooperstown, for its proprietors have been closely
associated with the life at the southern end of the lake.
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J. W. Tucker
Shadow Brook
The grounds of Hyde Hall lie toward the head of Otsego, on the eastern side, where Hyde Bay increases the
width of the lake by a generous sweep of rounded shore. Into this bay from the east flows Shadow Brook, the
most picturesque stream of water in the region, whose pellucid current reflects clear images of foliage and
sky, and [Pg 233]offers a favorite resort, in shaded nooks, to the drifting canoes of lovers. In a clearing of the
woods farther northward along the shore, and at a good elevation, stands Hyde Hall, facing the southeast
across the bay. It is massively constructed of large blocks of stone, and seems designed for a race of giants.
The main part of the house, completed in 1815, is two stories high, in the colonial style, and over two hundred
feet in length. In 1832 the facade was added, in the Empire style, with two splendid rooms on either [Pg
234]side of a large entrance hall. The doorways and windows, as well as the chambers into which they open,
are planned on a big scale. Solidity of construction appears throughout the building, where even the partition
walls are of brick or stone. The masons, carpenters, and mechanics who built Hyde Hall lived on the premises
while the house was under construction. They quarried and cut the stone from adjacent beds of local
limestone; they burnt the brick from clay found at the foot of the hill; they cut the timber in the neighboring
forest, and manufactured all the windows, doors, and panel-work.
The house commands a superb view of the lake, and is surrounded by beautiful old trees and forest land.
Upwards of three thousand acres belonging to Hyde Hall enclose it on all sides, and the residence is
approached by three private roads averaging over a mile in length.
Within the house, as one tries to visualize its spirit, from Trumbull's portrait of the Duke of Wellington, which
stands above the fireplace in the great drawing-room, through rambling passages with glimpses of a courtyard
and alcoves and wings; up curved stairways to landings that present unexpected steps down and steps up;
along halls that beckon amid dim lights to unrevealed recesses of space; down through kitchens where huge
pots and cauldrons reflect the glow of living coals, while shadowy outlines of spits and cranes are lifted amid
a smoke of savory odors; deeper down into the spacious wine-cellars darkly festooned with cobwebs, and chill
as the family [Pg 235]burying-vault where vines and snakes squirm through the bars of its iron gates beneath
the hill,—out of these fleeting impressions rises the atmosphere of an old-world tradition strangely
created amid the original wilds of Otsego at the beginning of the nineteenth century. It is a house that should
be ashamed not to harbor romance, and mystery, and ghosts.
Hyde Hall has the air of an English country-seat, with squire and tenantry, transplanted to the soil of an alien
democracy. To comprehend its place in the life of Cooperstown it must be regarded as the symbol of certain
ancestral traditions toward which good Americans are expected to be indifferent. George Clarke, who was
colonial governor of New York from 1737 to 1744, came to America shortly after being graduated at Oxford,
having received an appointment to colonial office from Walpole, then prime minister of England. He came
from Swanswick, near Bath. After a few years' residence in New York he met and married Anne Hyde, the
daughter of Edward Hyde, royal governor of North Carolina. She subsequently became the heiress of Hyde, in
England, in her own right, and by the old English law of coverture, George Clarke became the owner of the
estate. The lady died during his term of office as governor of the colony, and was buried, with a public
funeral, in the vault of Lord Cornburg in Trinity church, New York.
George Clarke, the builder of Hyde Hall on Otsego Lake, was a great-grandson of the colonial governor, a
part of whose large estate of lands [Pg 236]in America he inherited. He came to America in 1791, to comply
with the statute requiring all English born subjects who were minors during the War for Independence, and
who owned lands in this State subject to confiscation, to become American citizens. After several trips across
the water George Clarke decided, in 1809, to make his abode in the New World, and leaving his home, Hyde
Hall, at Hyde, in Cheshire, he came to America, married as his second wife Anne Cary, the widow of Richard
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Cooper, brother of James Fenimore Cooper, and in 1813 began the building of his new Hyde Hall.
The property originally controlled from Hyde Hall was of vast extent. At an early day George Clarke
encountered much opposition from his tenantry. The tenure by which they held their lands was not in
accordance with the views of American settlers. The estates were leased out, some as durable leases, at a
small rent, and others for three lives, or twenty-one years. The settlers disliked the relation of landlord and
tenant, and Clarke was frequently annoyed by demands which his high English notions of strict right would
not allow him to concede. His prejudices were strong, and if he believed anyone intended to wrong him, he
was stubborn in resisting any invasion of his rights. Hence there were many collisions between landlord and
tenant in the early days of Hyde Hall. The warm aspect of his nature, which disarmed the enmities of tenants,
appeared in his social qualities. He was companionable, gave good dinners, conversed well, told a good story,
[Pg 237]delighted in a good one from others, and when in a gay mood would sing an excellent song, generally
one that he had brought with him from Merrie England.
In his habits and sentiments Clarke was thoroughly English. He delighted to have his dinner got up in old
English style, with the best of roast beef and mutton, garnished with such delicacies as the lake and country
afforded, and just such as his countrymen, who knew how to appreciate good things, would order, were they
the caterers; and in these particulars he hardly ever failed to excel. Not only were his household arrangements
in this style, but he was English in his religious views; unless those matters were held in conformity to the
Anglican Church they were not acceptable.
When Clarke's son George, who afterward succeeded to the estate, was baptized, in 1824, Father Nash
officiated, and several other clergymen of the Episcopal Church were in attendance, besides some guests from
Utica, and many from Cooperstown and the surrounding country who had come to Hyde Hall for the
occasion. The christening was performed with suitable gravity, and in due time the dinner was announced,
which was in the substantial excellent style that Clarke knew well how to order for such a festivity. The host
was talkative and charming; as the dinner proceeded the guests became increasingly good-humored,
exceedingly well satisfied with him and with themselves. "In due time the ladies and clergy retired," says Levi
Beardsley,[95] who was [Pg 238]present at the feast, "and then the guests were effectually plied with creature
comforts."
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Hyde Hall
Nothing seemed more delightful to the first proprietor of Hyde Hall than thus to sit in company with
congenial men at the flowing bowl; to begin in the enjoyment of rational conversation; to discuss literature
and art and statecraft; to warm up to the telling of rare stories and the singing of good songs; and, in the end,
to get his guests, or a portion of them, "under the table." On this occasion, after partaking of the viands and
good cheer, the guests left the table in the early part of the evening, and repaired to the plateau in front of the
house, where some of [Pg 239]them ran foot-races in the dark, with no great credit to themselves as
pedestrians. As they were going back into the house, one of the guests stumbled and fell into the hall, where
he lay for some time, obstructing the closing of the outer door. One of the servants came to Clarke, who had
retired for the night, and asked what he should do with the large gentleman who had fallen in the doorway,
and was unable to rise. "Drag him in, and put him under the table" was the order which was immediately
complied with, and under the table the fallen guest remained until morning.
The builder of Hyde Hall died in 1835, and his only American born son, George Clarke, succeeded him in his
American estate, thus becoming at the age of twenty-one years the largest landed proprietor in the State of
New York. The patents which he held included 1,000 acres in Fulton county, 6,000 acres in Dutchess county,
7,000 acres in Oneida, 12,000 in Montgomery, besides 16,000 acres in Otsego county, and a valuable tract in
Greene county including one-half of the village of Catskill. George Clarke married Anna Maria Gregory,
daughter of Dudley S. Gregory, the wealthiest man in Jersey City, and their married life was begun in great
prosperity, with a town house on Fifth Avenue in New York, in addition to the country-seat on Otsego Lake.
SOLID SURVIVALS 118

Clarke had three span of fast horses, and was a familiar figure in Cooperstown when he drove to service at
Christ Church every Sunday, and [Pg 240]frequently came to the village for the transaction of business, or to
meet his friends, making nothing of the seven mile drive from his home.
In his younger days Clarke was quite celebrated as a beau and dandy, and at one time was said to be the best
dressed man in New York; but in his later years he became notorious for his carelessness of attire, and few of
his tenants wore a cheaper costume. In this matter he was indifferent to public opinion, and went about
looking like an old-fashioned farmer. In winter he covered himself with a buffalo coat that had areas of bare
hide worn through the fur; in summer his favorite habiliment was a linen duster. For Fifth Avenue in New
York he dressed in the same clothes that served him in Cooperstown. When his friends ventured to
remonstrate, he put them off by saying that dress was a matter of indifference alike in city or country. "In
Cooperstown," said he, "everybody knows me; in New York nobody knows me." When he had become
accustomed to a suit of clothes, he was as loath to change them as to alter his friendships or politics. As he
was plain in dress, so he was simple and abstemious in habits of life. His bare living probably cost as little as
that of any working-man in the country.
George Clarke had an insatiable land-hunger. In looking after his wide estates he allowed the Hyde Hall
Property to become dilapidated, and mortgaged the land that he owned to buy more. His land gave him great
yields of hops at the height of that industry in Otsego, but he was [Pg 241]always inclined to buy more hops
rather than to sell. Little by little, mortgages were foreclosed; Hyde Hall fell into decay; and in 1889 George
Clarke died insolvent.
Mrs. Clarke, in her youth, was said to be one of the most beautiful women of her day. Those who knew her in
later years can testify to an abiding charm of personality which time could never efface. Hyde Hall in summer
she loved, but always the most perfect place in the world to her was Monte Carlo, and there for many years
she passed the winter, becoming at last the oldest member of the American colony, having crossed the ocean
thirty times from America to Southern France. An old lady tireless of life and all its activities, sprightly in
manner, brilliant in conversation, graceful in gesture, gay in dress, decked in jewelry that scintillated with her
quick motions, shod in tiny, high-heeled slippers that clicked the measure of an alert step, and sometimes
permitted a flash of bright silk stockings; a lover of life and gaiety and beauty to whom Monte Carlo seemed
the most homelike spot on earth—her reign as mistress in her younger days gave a color of its own to
the story of Hyde Hall.
When George Clarke died in 1889, his son, George Hyde Clarke, having been graduated at the Columbia Law
School, had for several years made his home at Hyde Hall, and had restored the place to something like its
original condition. He married Mary Gale Carter, granddaughter of William Holt Averell of Cooperstown, and
[Pg 242]it was through her inheritance that the old home was saved to the family.
Hyde Clarke inherited some of the English traditions of his grandfather. He was sent to England at the age of
fourteen years, and educated at the famous Harrow school. In spite of his later devotion to legal studies, and
his admission to the bar of the State of New York, his real tastes inclined to agriculture. Having been trained
as a scholar, he added farming to his accomplishments, and when he settled down at Hyde Hall it was as a son
of the soil. For the rest of his life, being at once a gentleman and a farmer, he was the better in both characters
for being so much in each. The combination of birth and practical aptitude gave him a position quite unique in
Cooperstown and the surrounding country. He was a man of wide reading and culture, an exceedingly good
talker, and a delightful social companion. He was at the same time respected as a farmer among farmers, who
knew him well, and called him by his Christian name. It is related that shortly after her marriage to Hyde
Clarke, the stately and distinguished Mrs. Clarke was complaining to her butcher in Cooperstown that he had
sent her poor meat. "Very sorry, Mrs. Clarke," replied the butcher "but 'twas one of Hyde's own critters!"
SOLID SURVIVALS 119

SOLID SURVIVALS 120

Hyde Clarke
From the portrait by Ellen G. Emmet
Hyde Clarke had certain mannerisms that added interest to his personality. He would sometimes sit silent in
company, without the slightest effort to contribute to the conversation; but when he chose to talk, he talked
well and [Pg 243]informingly, and it was a delight to hear him. In a voice well-modulated and even, he
selected his words with care, sometimes pausing for the precise expression, which he brought out with a quiet
emphasis that made its exactness impressive. Repeatedly in conversation he seemed about to smile, or there
was a movement behind the drooping moustache and in the eyes that suggested merriment, which quickly
disappeared when one began to smile in return, leaving one with a foolish sense of having smiled at nothing.
His deliberation [Pg 244]of speech was significant of his carefulness of thought and judgment, and he was
always leisurely in action. If he invited a guest to dine with him at seven o'clock, he was quite likely himself
not to reach home until seven-thirty. A tall, calm man, he had the "British stare" to perfection, which in him
was not an affectation, but arose from an entire lack of self-consciousness, and from moments of
absent-mindedness. He could stare one out of countenance without intending rudeness; he could ignore the
social amenities when he chose, without giving offense; while he was the only man in Otsego who could enter
a lady's drawing-room in farming togs and with a hat on, without seeming less than well-bred.
His arrival at the services of Christ Church on the Sunday mornings of winter became characteristic. Always
late for the service, and often coming in after the sermon had begun, he walked deliberately forward up the
main alley, clad in the great fur coat which had served him for the cold drive from Hyde Hall. Arrived at his
pew, the front one at the left, he would stand there while he slowly removed his coat, meantime gazing
curiously at the preacher, as if wondering what the text might have been. Still standing, his hand described
circles over his head while he unreeled the long muffler wrapped about his throat. Then, turning about, he
would give a wide stare at the congregation, produce his handkerchief, and with a trumpet-blast sit down to
compose himself for the rest of the sermon.
Hyde Clarke was exactly the man to have lived [Pg 245]in what Levi Beardsley called the "Baronial
establishment" of Hyde Hall, amid broad acres of wooded hill, and farm, and pasture. Besides being a
practical farmer and hop-grower, he was a leader among politicians of the better sort in the Democratic party
of the county and State. Through many avenues of interest he reached all sides of life, and gained experiences
that saved his culture from dilettanteism, and made him a man among men, a true democrat. In his judgments
of men, he was big enough to overlook the little imperfections that often conceal a fundamental soundness of
character; he saw the good in all, and spoke evil of none. He had friendships among people of all sorts and
conditions. Nor did he limit his friendship to the human race; he knew horses and cows and dogs. He loved all
moods of nature, and faced all kinds of weather.
Hyde Hall, in the first century of its existence, measured the lives of three men, passing from father to son,
and leaving its traditions to the great-grandson of the builder, another George Hyde Clarke, who, in 1915,
married Emily Borie Ryerson, a daughter of Arthur Ryerson of Chicago, a gentleman affectionately
remembered as the host of "Ringwood" at the head of the lake, and mourned for his untimely death at sea, in
the loss of the Titanic.
SOLID SURVIVALS 121

A Wedding-Day at Hyde
Hyde Hall is at its best as the centre of a function, crowded with guests, buzzing with conversation, while the
company overflows from the house to the lawn, presenting a kaleidoscope of color in [Pg 246]the shifting
throng that moves to and fro in the spacious foreground of the venerable mansion. There are those to whom
one scene stands out as typical of Hyde Hall in its glory: a brilliant autumn afternoon in 1907, the wedding
day of the daughter of the house; a picturesque concourse of wedding guests upon the lawn before the
doorway; a sudden lifting of all eyes to the balcony above the portico, where the bride appears, clad in her
wedding gown, stands radiant, with her bridal bouquet poised aloft, and flings it to the bridesmaids grouped
below.
FOOTNOTES:
[95] Reminiscences, from which the description of Clarke is taken.
[Pg 247]
CHAPTER XIII
THE BIRTHPLACE OF BASE BALL

The game of Base Ball was invented and first played in Cooperstown in 1839. Few statements of historical
fact can be supported by the decision of a commission of experts especially appointed to examine the
evidence and render a verdict, but in fixing the origin of Base Ball it is exactly this solemn form of procedure
that has placed the matter beyond doubt.
In 1905 a friendly controversy arose, as to the origin of Base Ball, between A. G. Spalding, for many years
famous as a patron of the sport, and Henry Chadwick, fondly known as the "Father of Base Ball." Chadwick
had long contended that the game of Base Ball derived its origin from the old English pastime called
"Rounders." Spalding took issue with him, asserting that Base Ball is distinctively American, not only in
CHAPTER XIII 122

development, but in origin, and has no connection with "Rounders," nor any other imported game. Each view
enlisted its champions, and, when no agreement could be reached, the contending forces decided to refer the
whole matter to a special Base Ball commission for full consideration and final judgment.
[Pg 248]
The members of the commission were well known in the Base Ball world, and some of them were men of
national reputation in more serious fields of achievement. They were A. G. Mills of New York, an
enthusiastic ball player before and during the Civil War; the Hon. Arthur P. Gorman, former United States
Senator from Maryland; the Hon. Morgan G. Bulkeley, United States Senator from Connecticut, and formerly
Governor of that State; N. E. Young of Washington, D. C., a veteran ball player, and the first secretary of the
National Base Ball League; Alfred J. Reach of Philadelphia, and George Wright of Boston, both well known
business men, and, in their day, famous ball players; James E. Sullivan of New York, president of the
Amateur Athletic Union. The last named acted as secretary of the commission, and during three years
conducted an extensive correspondence in collecting data, as well as following up various clues that might
prove useful in the determination of the question at issue. When all available evidence had been gathered the
whole matter was compiled and laid before the special commission, which spent several months in going over
the mass of data and argument.
Briefs were addressed to the commission, by Chadwick in support of his contention that Base Ball was
developed from the English game of "Rounders," and by his opponents, who claimed a purely American
origin for the national game.
The similarity of the two games, Chadwick contended, was shown in the fact that "Rounders" [Pg 249]was
played by two opposing sides of contestants, on a special field of play, in which a ball was pitched or tossed to
an opposing batsman, who endeavored to strike the ball out into the field, far enough to admit of his safely
running the round of the bases before the ball could be returned, so as to enable him to score a run, the side
scoring the most runs winning the game. This basic principle of "Rounders," Chadwick contended, is identical
with the fundamental principle of Base Ball.
Base Ball on Native Soil
Those who maintained the strictly American origin of Base Ball were unwilling to admit a connection with
any game of any other country, except in so far as all games of ball have a certain similarity and family
relationship. It was pointed out that if the mere tossing or handling of a ball, or striking it with some kind of
stick, could be accepted as the origin of our game, it would carry it far back of Anglo-Saxon [Pg
250]civilization—beyond Rome, beyond Greece, at least to the palmy days of the Chaldean Empire. It
was urged that in the early 'forties of the nineteenth century, when anti-British feeling still ran high, it is most
unlikely that a sport of British origin would have been adopted in America. It was recalled that Col. James
THE BIRTHPLACE OF BASE BALL 123

Lee, who was one of the moving spirits in the original effort to popularize Base Ball in New York City, and
an organizer of the Knickerbocker Ball Club in 1845, had asserted that the game of Base Ball was chosen
instead of and in opposition to Cricket on the very ground that the former was a purely American game, and
because of the then existing prejudice against adopting any game of foreign invention. The champions of this
theory of American origin further contended that those who would derive Base Ball from "Rounders" had
totally ignored the earlier history of both games, and had been misled by certain modern developments of
"Rounders," as more recently played in England, after many of the features of Base Ball had been
appropriated by the English game.
The American source of Base Ball is traced to the game of "One Old Cat," which was a favorite among the
boys in old colonial times. This was played by three boys—a thrower, a catcher, and a batsman. If the
batsman after striking the ball could run to a goal about thirty feet distant, and return before the ball could be
fielded, he counted one tally. This game was developed to include more players. "Two Old Cat" was played
by four boys—two batsmen and two [Pg 251]throwers—each alternating as catchers, and a
"tally" was made by the batsman hitting the ball and exchanging places with the batsman at the opposite goal.
In the same manner "Three Old Cat" was played by six, and "Four Old Cat" by eight boys. "Four Old Cat,"
with four batsmen and four throwers, each alternating as catchers, was played on a square-shaped field, each
side of which was about forty feet long. All the batsmen were forced to run to the next corner, or "goal," of
this square whenever any one of the batsmen struck the ball, but if the ball was caught on the fly or first
bound, or any one of the four batsmen was hit by a thrown ball between goals, the runner was out, and his
place was taken by the fielding player who put him out.
From this game was developed "Town Ball," so called because it came to be the popular game at all town
meetings. This game accommodated a greater number of players than "Four Old Cat," and resolved the
individual players into two competing sides. It placed one thrower in the centre of the "Four Old Cat" square
field, and had but one catcher. The corners of the field were called first, second, third, and fourth goals. The
batsman's position was half way between first and fourth goals. The number of players on a side was at first
unlimited, but "three out, all out," had already become the rule, allowing the fielding side to take their innings
at bat.
This method of alternating sides at bat was retained in the fully developed game of Base Ball, and marks the
most radical difference in the [Pg 252]ancestry of Base Ball and the English "Rounders." For the great feature
of "Rounders," from which it derives its name, is the "rounder" itself, meaning that whenever one of the "in"
side makes a complete continuous circuit of the bases, or, as it would be called in Base Ball, a "home run," he
thereby reinstates the entire side; it then becomes necessary to begin over again to retire each one of the side
at bat, until all of them have been put out. If Base Ball had been derived from Rounders, it would be likely to
show in its history some trace of this distinctive feature of the English game. But no such feature has ever
appeared in Base Ball or its antecedents.[96]
All these considerations, with much else, entered into the discussions of the special Base Ball commission.
The final decision of the commission was unanimous, and was published early in 1908.[97] The decision
covered two points, the first rejecting the alleged connection with Rounders, the second fixing the time and
place of the origin of Base Ball in America. Under the first head the commission decided "that Base Ball is of
American origin, and has no traceable connection whatever with 'Rounders,' or any other foreign game."
It was the second point in the decision, however, that added historic lustre to a village already famous in
romance. The commission [Pg 253]decided "that the first scheme for playing Base Ball, according to the best
evidence obtainable to date, was devised by Abner Doubleday at Cooperstown, N. Y., in 1839."
Up to the time of this investigation it had been supposed that the modern game of Base Ball originated in New
York City, where the game was played in a desultory sort of way by the young business men as early as 1842,

although the first rules were not promulgated until the organization of the old Knickerbocker Base Ball Club
in 1845. But Abner Graves, a mining engineer of Denver, convinced the commission that the real origin of the
game must be sought elsewhere.
Graves was a boy playfellow of Abner Doubleday in Cooperstown in 1839. He was present when Doubleday
outlined with a stick in the dirt the present diamond-shaped Base Ball field, indicating the location of the
players in the field; and afterward saw him make a diagram of the field on paper, with a crude pencil
memorandum of the rules for his new game, which he named "Base Ball." Although sixty-eight years had
passed since that time Graves distinctly remembered the incident, and recalled playing the game, with other
boys, under Abner Doubleday's direction.
Doubleday's game seems to have been an orderly and systematic development of "Town Ball," in which
confusion and collision among players in attempting to catch the batted ball were frequent, and injury due to
this cause, or to the practice of putting out the runner by hitting him [Pg 254]with the ball, often occurred.
Although Doubleday provided for eleven men on a side, instead of nine, using four outfielders instead of
three, and stationing an extra shortstop between first and second bases, he had nevertheless invented
fundamental principles that became characteristic of Base Ball. He had definitely limited the number of
contestants on each side, and had fixed the position of players in the field, allotting certain territory to each,
besides adding something like the present method of putting out the baserunner to the old one of "plugging"
him with the ball. Under Doubleday's rules a runner not on base might be put out by being touched with the
ball in the hand of an opposing player. From this was an easy step to the practice of throwing the ball to a
baseman to anticipate the runner. The new importance thus given to the bases, in their relation to both fielders
and batters, justified for the game the name of "Base Ball."
"Abner Doubleday," writes Graves, "was several years older than I. In 1838 and 1839 I was attending the
'Frog Hollow' school south of the Presbyterian church, while he was at school somewhere on the hill. I do not
know, neither is it possible for anyone to know, on what spot the first game of Base Ball was played according
to Doubleday's plan. He went diligently among the boys in the town, and in several schools, explaining the
plan, and inducing them to play Base Ball in lieu of the other games. Doubleday's game was played in a good
many places around town: sometimes in the old militia muster lot, or training [Pg 255]ground, a couple of
hundred yards southeasterly from the Court House,[98] where County Fairs were occasionally held;
sometimes in Mr. Bennett's field south of Otsego Academy;[99] at other times over in the Miller's Bay
neighborhood,[100] and up the lake.
"I remember one dandy, fine, rollicking game where men and big boys from the Academy and other schools
played up on Mr. Phinney's farm, a mile or two up the west side of the lake,[101] when Abner Doubleday and
Prof. Green chose sides, and Doubleday's side beat Green's side badly. Doubleday was captain and catcher for
his side, and I think John Graves and Elihu Phinney were the pitchers for the two sides. I wasn't in the game,
but stood close by Doubleday, and wanted Prof. Green to win. In his first time at bat Prof. Green missed three
consecutive balls. Abner caught all three, then pounded Mr. Green on the back with the ball, while they and
all others were roaring with laughter, and yelling 'Prof. is out!'"

The Original House at Apple Hill
It is of interest to recall that Abner Doubleday, the inventor of Base Ball went from his school [Pg 256]in
Cooperstown to West Point, where he was graduated in 1842, and served with distinction in the Civil War,
attaining to the rank of Major General. Base Ball, indeed, owes much of its vogue to the United States Army,
for it was played as a camp diversion by the soldiers of the Civil War, who, during the years of peace that
followed, spread the fever of this pastime throughout the length and breadth of the United States, and thus
gave to the game its national character.
In 1908, at the time of the Base Ball Commission's decision that the game originated at Cooperstown in 1839,
there were several old residents of the village whose recollections included that [Pg 257]early period. On the
strength of their statements rests a probability that the Cooperstown Classical and Military Academy, which
was flourishing in 1839 under Major William H. Duff, was the school attended by Doubleday. This would be
in accord with the recollection of Abner Graves that, in 1839, Doubleday was "at school somewhere on the
hill." This school was at "Apple Hill," as it was called, in the grounds of the present "Fernleigh," where the
Clark residence was built and now stands. Owing to the number of trees and the abrupt slope to the river, it is
not likely that a full-sized Base Ball game was ever played within these grounds. But it is pleasant to fancy
young Doubleday standing here, surrounded by an eager crowd of boys, amid the golden sunlight and
greenery of long ago, as he traces on the earth with a stick his famous diamond, and from these shades goes
forth with his companions to begin the national game of America.
FOOTNOTES:

[96] Opinion of John M. Ward, a famous player, afterward a lawyer in New York City.
[97] Spalding's Official Base Ball Guide, 1908, p. 48.
[98] The Watkins place on Chestnut Street, opposite the Village Hall, occupies this training ground, which
extended east and south to the rear of the buildings on Main Street, and included part of the Phinney lot.
[99] The clergy house of St. Mary's Church occupies the site of the Otsego Academy.
[100] The Country Club grounds.
[101] The present "Brookwood."
[Pg 258]
CHAPTER XIV
FENIMORE COOPER IN THE VILLAGE

The childhood memories of James Fenimore Cooper were associated with the village which his father had
settled at the foot of Otsego Lake, for hither he was brought a babe in arms, and remained until, at the age of
nine years, he was sent to Albany to be tutored by the rector of St. Peter's Church. After his career at Yale and
in the Navy, he was married in 1811 to Susan de Lancey, and brought his bride to Cooperstown on their
honeymoon. Three years later they came back to take up their residence at "Fenimore" just out of the village,
on Otsego Lake, but, after three seasons of farming, circumstances once more drew Fenimore Cooper away
from Cooperstown.
CHAPTER XIV 127

Fenimore
It was in 1834, when he had become a novelist of international fame, and had lived for seven years in Europe,
that Cooper, at the age of forty-five years, took steps to make a permanent home in the village of his
childhood. Otsego Hall, which his father had built upon the site now marked by the statue of the Indian
Hunter, in the Cooper Grounds, was repaired and partly remodeled, and here Fenimore Cooper dwelt until his
death in 1851.
[Pg 259]
Two names of later renown are connected with Fenimore Cooper's reconstruction of Otsego Hall. Among the
artisans employed was a lad of seventeen years apprenticed as a joiner, Erastus D. Palmer, who already had
begun to attract attention as a wood-carver, and afterward became famous as a sculptor. While the alterations
were in progress Cooper had as his guest in Cooperstown Samuel F. B. Morse, who assisted him in carrying
out his ideas for the reconstruction of the Hall, and drew the designs which gave it more the style of an
English country house.[102] The local [Pg 260]gossips said that Morse aspired to the hand of his friend's
eldest daughter, Susan Augusta Fenimore, then twenty-one years of age, but that Cooper had no mind to yield
so fair a prize to an impecunious painter, a widower, and already forty-three years old. Morse was at this time
experimenting with the telegraph instrument which was afterward to bring him wealth and such fame as an
inventor as to overshadow his reputation as an artist.
FENIMORE COOPER IN THE VILLAGE 128

Otsego Hall
The Cooper Grounds, now kept as a public park by the Clark Estate, include the property that belonged to
Fenimore Cooper. Otsego Hall, which was destroyed by fire in 1852, after the [Pg 261]novelist's death, must
be imagined at the centre of the grounds, where its outward appearance, as well as the arrangement of its
interior, may be reconstructed by the fancy from the wooden model made from a design by G. Pomeroy
Keese, and now to be seen in the village museum. Cooper's favorite garden-seat exists in facsimile in its
original situation at the southeast corner of the grounds.
When in 1834 the old mansion of the founder of Cooperstown began once more to be occupied it was a matter
of great interest to the people of the village. Many of them well remembered Fenimore Cooper and his bride
when, twenty years before, they had lived at Fenimore. They recalled the former resident as James Cooper, for
it was not until 1826 that he adopted the middle name, in compliance with a request which his mother had
made that he should use her family name.[103] Twenty years had made many changes in Cooperstown, and
there was a large proportion of residents who knew Fenimore Cooper only from his writings and by
reputation. Therefore when he came back to dwell in the home of his youth he was regarded by many almost
as a newcomer in the neighborhood, and to his family as well as to himself a rather cautious welcome was
given. It had to be admitted at the outset that [Pg 262]the changes which Fenimore Cooper made in Otsego
Hall were disapproved by some of the villagers. They did not like the foreign air which the old house now
began to give itself with its battlements and gothic elaborations. Here was the first muttering of the storm that
clouded the later years of Fenimore Cooper.


James Fenimore Cooper
Cooper's personal appearance was in accord with the strong individuality of his character. He was of massive,
compact form, six feet in height, over two hundred pounds in weight and rather portly in later years, of firm
and aristocratic bearing, a commanding figure: "a very castle of a man" was the phrase which Washington
Irving applied to him. The bust[104] made by David d'Angers in Paris in 1828 gives to Cooper a classic
splendor of head and countenance which is in agreement with the impression produced upon those who well
remembered him. He had a full, expansive forehead, strong features, florid complexion, a mouth firm without
harshness, and clear gray eyes. His head, which was set firmly and proudly upon giant shoulders, had a
peculiar and incessant oscillating motion. His expressive eyes also were singularly volatile in their
movement—seldom at perfect rest. He was always clean shaven, so that nothing was lost of the
changes of expression which animated his mobile face in conversation. He had a hearty way of meeting men,
a little bustling, and an emphatic frankness of manner which Bryant says startled him at first, [Pg 263]but
which he came at last to like and to admire. Cooper was a great talker. His voice was agreeably sonorous. He
talked well, and with infinite resource. He could dash into animated conversation on almost any subject, and
was not slow to express decided opinions, in which at times he almost demanded acquiescence. His
earnestness was often mistaken for brusqueness and violence; "for," says Lounsbury,[105] "he was, in some
measure, [Pg 264]of that class of men who appear to be excited when they are only interested." He created a
strong impression of vigor, intelligence, impulsiveness, vivacity, and manliness.
When walking Cooper usually carried a stick, but never for support. In his last years he carried a small,
slender walking stick of polished wood, having a curved handle, and too short for any purpose but to flourish
in the hands. As he walked briskly along the village street, erect, and with expanded chest, this slender stick
was often held horizontally across his back with his arms skewered behind it, while at his heels a pet dog
trotted, a little black mongrel called "Frisk." In returning from the walk which proved to be his last he stopped
at Edgewater, then the home of his niece, and, on leaving, forgot to take his stick. There it has remained,
through the years that have passed since his death, just as he left it, hanging by its curved handle from a shelf
of one of the bookcases in the library.
During this residence in Cooperstown Fenimore Cooper wrote some twenty of his novels, his Naval History,
the Chronicles of Cooperstown, besides many sketches of travel and articles contributed to magazines. This
prodigious amount of writing, together with many other activities, made his life a full one. He rose early, and
a considerable portion of his writing was accomplished before breakfast. In summer hardly a day passed
without a visit to the Chalet farm, on the east side of the lake, where he sought relaxation from his mental
labors. Accordingly, [Pg 265]at about eleven o'clock he might be seen issuing from the gate of his residence
in a wagon, driving a tall sorrel horse named Pumpkin. This animal was ill suited to the dignity of his driver.
He had a singularity of gait which consisted in occasionally going on three legs, and at times elevating both
hind legs in a manner rather amusing than alarming; often he persisted in backing when urged to go forward,
and always his emotions were expressed by the switching of his very light wisp of a tail. Mrs. Cooper was
most frequently Mr. Cooper's companion on these daily excursions, although often the eldest daughter took
the place in the vehicle by her father's side.

The Chalet
[Pg 266]
In the late afternoon Cooper usually devoted some time to the composition of his novels, without touching
pen to paper. It was his custom to work out the scenes of his stories while promenading the large hall of his
home. Here he paced to and fro in the twilight of the afternoon, his hands crossed behind his back, his brow
carrying the impression of deep thought. He nodded vigorously from time to time, and muttered to himself,
inventing and carrying on the conversation of his various imaginary characters. After the evening meal he put
work aside, and passed the time with the family, sometimes reading, often in a game of chess with Mrs.
Cooper, whom, ever since their wedding day, when they played chess between the ceremony and supper, he
had fondly called his "check-mate." He never smoked, and seldom drank beyond a glass of wine which he
took with his dinner.

The Novelist's Library

From a drawing by G. Pomeroy Keese
In the early morning, when Cooper shut himself in the library, he set down on paper in its final form the
portion of narrative that he had worked out while pacing the hall the previous afternoon. The library opened
from the main hall, and occupied the southwestern corner of the house. It was lighted by tall, deeply-recessed
windows, against which the branches of the evergreens outside flung their waving shadows. The wainscoting
was of dark oak, and the sombre bookcases that lined the walls were of the same material. A large fireplace
occupied the space between the two western windows. Across the [Pg 267]room stood a folding screen[106]
upon which had been pasted a collection of engravings representing scenes known to the family during their
tour and residence in Europe, together with a number of notes and autographs from persons of distinction.
Attached to the top of one of the bookcases was a huge pair of antlers[107] holding in their embrace a
calabash from the southern seas.
[Pg 269]


A Page Of Cooper's Manuscript

(Two-fifths of actual size)
[Pg 268]
The table at which the novelist sat once belonged to his maternal grandfather, Richard Fenimore, and had
been brought by Judge Cooper from Burlington at the settlement of Cooperstown. It was a plain one of
English walnut, and the chair in which he sat was of the same material. Cooper wrote rapidly, in a fine, small,
clear hand, upon large sheets of foolscap, and seldom made an erasure. No company was permitted in the
room while he was writing except an Angora cat who was allowed to bound upon the desk without rebuke, or
even to perch upon the author's shoulders. Here the cat settled down contentedly, and with half-shut eyes
watched the steady driving of the quill across the paper.
Among the many books written in this library The Deerslayer brought the greatest fame to Cooperstown, for
it peopled the shores of Otsego Lake with the creatures of Cooper's fancy, and added to the natural beauty of
its scenery the glamour of romance. The idea of writing this story came to Fenimore Cooper on a summer
afternoon as he drove from the Chalet homeward in his farm wagon, with his favorite daughter by his side,
along the shaded road on the east shore of the lake. He was singing cheerily, for, although no musician, often
he sang snatches of familiar songs that had struck his fancy, and above the rumbling of the wagon his
booming voice frequently was heard along the road in a sudden burst of "Scots, wha ha'e wi' Wallace [Pg
270]bled!" or Moore's "Love's Young Dream"—always especial favorites with him. On this occasion,
however, it was a political song that he was singing, a ditty then popular during the campaign of 1840 in the
party opposed to his own. Suddenly he paused, as an opening in the woods revealed a charming view of the
lake. His spirited gray eye rested a moment on the water, with an expression of abstracted poetical thought,
familiar to those who lived with him; then, turning to the companion at his side, he exclaimed: "I must write
one more book, dearie, about our little lake!" Again his eye rested on the water and wooded shores with the
far-seeing look of one who already had a vision of living figures and dusky forms moving amid the quiet
scene. A moment of silence followed. Then Fenimore Cooper cracked his whip, resumed his song, with some
careless chat on incidents of the day, and drove homeward. Not long afterward he shut himself in his library,
and the first pages of The Deerslayer were written.[108]
There were perhaps many in the village who felt honored in being neighbor to a novelist of international fame.
But the general sentiment toward Fenimore Cooper in his home town was not altogether created by his
success as a writer. It may be that the aged Miss Nancy Williams, who lived in the house which still stands on
Main Street next east of the Second National Bank, was not alone in her estimate of this kind of [Pg
271]success. Her favorite seat was at a front window where she was daily occupied in knitting, and watching
all passers-by. Whenever Fenimore Cooper passed, whom she had known as a boy, Miss Williams called out
to him: "James, why don't you stop wasting your time writing those silly novels, and try to make something of
yourself!"


C. A. Schneider
The Home of Nancy Williams
Whatever may have been the village estimate of his fame as a novelist, there were certain personal traits in
Cooper that went farther than [Pg 272]anything he ever wrote to fix the esteem of his fellow citizens. Among
acquaintances whom he admitted as his social equals he was universally beloved; to these he showed all the
charm and fascination of a gracious personality and brilliant mind. The more intimately Cooper was
approached the more unreservedly he was admired, and within his own family he was almost adored. In the
humbler walks of life those who habitually recognized Cooper as a superior had nothing to complain of. But
there were many in Cooperstown who had no warmth of feeling toward Fenimore Cooper. They were quick to
detect in him an attitude of contemptuous superiority toward the villagers. Some of the neighbors felt that he
willingly remained a stranger to them. When he passed along the street without seeing people who expected a
greeting from him, his friends averred that it was because his mind, abstracted from present scenes and
passers-by, was engaged in the dramatic development of some tale of sea or forest. But those who felt
snubbed by his indifference were less charitable in their interpretation of his bearing toward them. Cooper had
been for seven years a lion in Europe, splendidly entertained by the Princess Galitzin in Paris, where he was
overwhelmed with invitations from counts and countesses; dining at Holland House in London with Lord and
Lady Holland; a guest of honor at a ball given by a prince in Rome; presented at the brilliant Tuscan court at
Florence, for which occasion he was decked in lace frills and ruff, with dress hat and sword;—such [Pg
273]incidents of his foreign life began to be mentioned to account for Cooper's disinclination to encourage
familiar acquaintance with the villagers of Cooperstown.
Cooper himself was entirely unconscious of any arrogance in his attitude, and when, in connection with the
later controversies, it came to his knowledge that some villagers accused him of posing as an aristocrat in
Cooperstown, he resented the imputation with some bitterness. "In this part of the world," he said, "it is
thought aristocratic not to frequent taverns, and lounge at corners, squirting tobacco juice."[109] Cooper was
strongly democratic in his convictions, and was so far from having been a toady during his residence in
Europe that he had made enemies in aristocratic circles abroad by his fearless championship of republican
institutions. At the same time he was fastidiously undemocratic in many of his tastes. It is a keen observation
of Lounsbury's that Cooper "was an aristocrat in feeling, and a democrat by conviction." His recognition of
the worth of true manhood, entirely apart from rank and social refinement, is shown in the noble character of
Leather-Stocking. Yet the manners and customs of uncultivated people in real life were most offensive to his
squeamish taste, and much of his concern for the welfare of his countrymen had to do with their neglect of the
decencies and amenities of social behaviour.
More than half a century after his death there [Pg 274]were some living in Cooperstown who frequently
related their childhood memories of Fenimore Cooper. His tendency to lecture the neighbors on their manners
was burned into the memory of a child who, as she sat on her doorstep, was engaged with the novelist in
pleasant conversation, until he spied a ring that she was wearing upon the third finger of her left hand. This he
made the text of a solemn declaration upon the impropriety of wearing falsely the symbol of a sacred
relationship. The lesson intended was probably sensible and wholesome, but the effect produced upon the
child was a terror of Fenimore Cooper which lasted as long as life. On the other hand, one who was a slip of a
girl at the time used afterward to boast that Fenimore Cooper had opened a gate for her when she was riding
horseback, and stood hat in hand while she passed through.
Allowance must be made for a somewhat distorted perspective in the impression produced by Cooper upon
the memories of not a few children, for, judging from their reminiscences, the Garden of Eden was not more
inviting than his, nor its fruits more to be desired, nor was the angel with the flaming sword more terribly
vigilant than Fenimore Cooper in guarding the trees from unholy hands. The glimpses of the novelist most
vividly remembered by these youngsters relate to attempted invasions of the orchard near his house, and their

furious repulse by the irascible owner, who charged upon the trespassers with loud objurgations and a
flourishing stick. One who picked a rose without permission long remembered the [Pg 275]"awful lecture"
that Cooper gave her, and how he said, "It is just as bad to take my flowers as to steal my money."[110]
Among the children of his own friends there was quite a different opinion of Cooper. Elihu Phinney, who was
a playmate of the novelist's son Paul, and a frequent guest at Otsego Hall, had an intense admiration for the
author of the Leather-Stocking Tales, although he long remembered a lesson in table manners, by which, on
one of these visits, his host had startled him. At dinner young Elihu passed his plate with knife and fork upon
it for a second supply, when from the head of the table came this reprimand: "My boy, never leave your
implements on the plate. You might drop knife or fork in a lady's lap. Take them both firmly in your left hand,
and hold them until your plate is returned." Half a century afterward Elihu Phinney declared that whatever the
ruling of etiquette might be in this matter, he had never since failed to heed this bit of advice from Fenimore
Cooper. Mrs. Stephen H. Synnott, wife of a one-time rector of Christ Church in Cooperstown, remembered
Cooper as a genuine lover of children. She was Alice Trumbull Worthington, and during the novelist's latter
years she lived as a child in the White House on Main Street, nearest neighbor to Otsego Hall. "To meet
Fenimore Cooper on the street in the village was always a pleasure," says Mrs. Synnott. "His eye twinkled, his
face beamed, and his cane [Pg 276]pointed at you with a smile and a greeting of some forthcoming humor.
When I happened to be passing the gates of the old Hall, and he and Mrs. Cooper were driving home from his
farm, I often ran to open the gate for him, which trifling act he acknowledged with old-time courtesy. His fine
garden joined my father's, and once, being in the vicinity of the fence, he tossed me several muskmelons to
catch, which at that time were quite rare in the village gardens."
To this same little girl, when she had sent him an appreciation of one of his novels, Fenimore Cooper wrote a
letter that certainly shows a benignant attitude toward children. "I am so much accustomed to newspapers," he
wrote, "that their censure and their praise pass but for little, but the attentions of a young lady of your tender
years to an old man who is old enough to be her grandfather are not so easily overlooked.... I hope that you
and I and John will have an opportunity of visiting the blackberry bushes, next summer, in company. I now
invite you to select your party, to be composed of as many little girls, and little boys, too, if you can find those
you like, to go to my farm next summer, and spend an hour or two in finding berries. It shall be your party,
and the invitations must go out in your name, and you must speak to me about it, in order that I may not forget
it, and you can have your school if you like or any one else. I shall ask only one guest myself, and that will be
John,[111] who knows the road, having been there once already."
[Pg 277]
Another child who found Fenimore Cooper a most genial friend was Caroline A. Foote, who afterward
became Mrs. G. Pomeroy Keese. She was a frequent visitor at Otsego Hall, where the novelist made much of
her, and when she was thirteen years old he wrote some original verses in her autograph album, at her request,
concluding with these lines:
In after life, when thou shalt grow

To womanhood, and learn to feel
The tenderness the aged know
To guide their children's weal,
Then wilt thou bless with bended knee
Some smiling child as I bless thee.
Encouraged by this success, Caroline Foote afterward asked Cooper to write some verses for her schoolmate,
Julia Bryant, daughter of William Cullen Bryant, who was a warm friend of the novelist. With his young
petitioner by his side Cooper sat at the old desk in the library of Otsego Hall and laughingly dashed off these
lines:

Charming young lady, Miss Julia by name,
Your friend, little Cally, your wishes proclaim;
Read this, and you'll soon learn to know it,
I'm not your papa the great lyric poet.
In order to understand the local controversy which divided village sentiment concerning Fenimore Cooper,
and gave rise to the long series of libel suits, it is necessary to consider certain influences of more remote
origin.
In 1826, when Cooper began his seven years' [Pg 278]residence in Europe, before making his home in
Cooperstown, he had become the most widely read of American authors. No other American writer, in fact,
during the nineteenth century, enjoyed so wide a contemporary popularity. His works appeared
simultaneously in America, England, and France. They were speedily translated into German and Italian, and
in most instances soon found their way into the other cultivated tongues of Europe.[112] Cooper's friend
Morse said that his novels were published, as soon as he produced them, in thirty-four different places in
Europe, and that they had been seen by American travelers in the languages of Turkey and Persia, in
Constantinople, in Egypt, at Jerusalem, at Ispahan. At a dinner given in New York in Cooper's honor, just
before his departure for Europe, Chancellor Kent, who presided, voiced the general feeling by toasting him as
the "genius which has rendered our native soil classic ground, and given to our early history the enchantment
of fiction."
Patriotism in Cooper was almost a passion, and it burned in him with new ardor because of the
misunderstanding and disparagement of America which he encountered almost everywhere in Europe. The
praise which came to him from Europeans irritated him with its air of surprise that anything good could be
expected from America or an American. Nor did he much ingratiate himself in British society, where, when
the conversation turned upon matters discreditable [Pg 279]to the United States, it became his custom to bring
up other matters discreditable to Great Britain. On the Continent he pursued much the same course, and
published his first "novels with a purpose," The Bravo, The Heidenmauer, and The Headsman, the object of
which was to demonstrate the superiority of democratic institutions over the medieval inheritances of Europe.
In his introduction to The Heidenmauer he wrote a sentence that stirred the wrath of the newspaper press of
his own country: "Each hour, as life advances," he asserted, "am I made to see how capricious and vulgar is
the immortality conferred by a newspaper." This provoked at home the retort "The press has built him up; the
press shall pull him down!" He began to be bitterly attacked in some American newspapers, which accused
him of "flouting his Americanism throughout Europe."
When Cooper returned to America in 1833 it was with a sore heart. He had tried to set Europe right about
America, and the result had been only to arouse resentment abroad and antagonism at home. It is not
surprising that he found America much changed in seven years, and not for the better. It had been a period of
rapid growth. New men were beginning to push the "old families" to the wall, and social rank was beginning
to wait on wealth, in utter indifference to the classifications of the elder aristocracy. To Cooper it seemed that
while America had grown in his absence there had been a vast expansion of mediocrity. Manners were dying
out; architecture had [Pg 280]become debased; towns were larger but more tawdry. In these observations,
although they were furiously resented at the time, Cooper was probably correct. There was a period of about
fifty years in the nineteenth century, when, in the development of material resources, there was a large
indifference to manners in America, and a decline in the love for beautiful things and in the power to create
them. This period of neglect toward the refinements of life set in at just about the time of Cooper's residence
abroad.
But America, in this awkward age of its youthful growth, was in no mood either to profit by criticisms or to be
indifferent to them. Cooper began to regard the attitude of Americans as pusillanimous. They toadied to
foreign opinion, and dared not stand up for America abroad; while at home nothing American was ever to be
criticised. When he expressed the opinion that the bay of Naples was more beautiful than the bay of New

York, or complained that the streets of New York were ill-paved and poorly lighted as compared with those of
foreign cities, he was informed by the hushed voices of friends that it would never do. His criticisms of
America were received with deeper umbrage, as coming from an American, than the sarcasms of Dickens
which, ten years later, aroused a tempest of indignation.
It was in these circumstances that he returned to the village of his youth, and took up his residence at Otsego
Hall, in Cooperstown. Here he wrote the Letter to His Countrymen in which he set out to answer certain
criticisms of his writings [Pg 281]that had appeared in New York newspapers, and, in apparent disgust,
publicly announced that he had made up his mind to abandon authorship. Into this letter he imported some
remarks upon a political controversy which was then agitating the nation, and touched the political situation in
such a way, at a time when feeling ran high, that he succeeded in enraging the adherents of both political
parties.
A storm of newspaper abuse then fell upon Cooper. He was not the man to realize that, in controversy, silence
is sometimes the most effective weapon. He replied to every attack. Nor did he remain on the defensive. He
began new hostilities. He abandoned his resolution to abandon authorship. The Monikins, a satirical novel in
which men are burlesqued by monkeys, was published in 1835. In the ten volumes of travel published from
1836 to 1838 he dealt out occasional criticisms of both England and America with so impartial a hand that he
drew down upon himself the savage vituperation of the press on both sides of the Atlantic. Then came the
period during which, from being the most popular American author, he became the most unpopular man of
letters to whom the nation has ever given birth. "For years," says Lounsbury, "a storm of abuse fell upon him,
which for violence, for virulence, and even for malignity, surpassed anything in the history of American
literature, if not in the history of literature itself."

Three-Mile Point
On the western shore of Otsego Lake there is a low, wooded tongue of land which projects for [Pg 282]a short
distance into the water, and is called, in reference to its distance from Cooperstown, Three-Mile Point. This
has been a favorite resort for picnics and other outings of villagers since 1822. When Fenimore Cooper took
up his residence in the village in 1834, after his return from Europe, he found that the free use of Three-Mile
Point by the public had given rise to the notion that it was owned by the community. This impression he took
pains to correct, saying that while he had no desire to prevent the public from resorting to the Point, he wished
it clearly understood that it was owned by the descendants of Judge William Cooper, of whose will he was
executor. A defiant attitude toward his claim, [Pg 283]and the destruction of a tree at Three-Mile Point
afterward led Cooper to publish in the Freeman's Journal the following warning:
The public is warned against trespassing on the Three-Mile Point, it being the intention of the subscriber
rigidly to enforce the title of the estate, of which he is the representative, to the same. The public has not, nor
has it ever had any right to the same beyond what has been conceded by the liberality of the owners. J.
FENIMORE COOPER.
Immediately upon the publication of this notice, a handbill was put into circulation, which, in sarcastic terms,
called for a public meeting of protest. "The citizens of the Village of Cooperstown," it ran, "are requested to
meet at the Inn of Isaac Lewis, in said Village, this evening, at 7 o'clock, to take means to meet, and defend
against the arrogant pretensions of one James Fenimore Cooper, claiming title to the 'Three-Mile Point,' and
denying to the citizens the right of using the same, as they have been accustomed to from time immemorial,

without being indebted to the LIBERALITY of any one man, whether native or foreigner."
[Pg 284]
The Call for the Indignation Meeting

From original printer's proof: one-half actual size.
The meeting was held, and stirring speeches were made. A series of resolutions was passed, following a
preamble setting forth the facts as understood by the meeting of citizens:
Resolved, By the aforesaid citizens that we will wholly disregard the notice given by James F. Cooper,
forbidding the public to frequent the Three-Mile Point.
Resolved, That inasmuch as it is well known that the [Pg 285]late William Cooper intended the use of the
Point in question for the citizens of this village and its vicinity, we deem it no more than a proper respect for
the memory and intentions of the father, that the son should recognize the claim of the citizens to the use of
the premises, even had he the power to deny it.
Resolved, That we will hold his threat to enforce title to the premises, as we do his whole conduct in relation
to the matter, in perfect contempt.
Resolved, That the language and conduct of Cooper, in his attempts to procure acknowledgments of
"liberality," and his attempt to force the citizens into asking his permission to use the premises, has been such
as to render himself odious to a greater portion of the citizens of this community.
Resolved, That we do recommend and request the trustees of the Franklin Library, in this village, to remove
all books, of which Cooper is the author, from said library.

Resolved also, That we will and do denounce any man as sycophant, who has, or shall, ask permission of
James F. Cooper to visit the Point in question.
It was said that the meeting resolved to take Cooper's books from the Library and burn them at a public
bonfire, but if so, this proposal did not appear in the resolutions as finally drafted.
The actual point at issue in this controversy was soon settled. In a letter to the Freeman's Journal Cooper
showed that his father's will, drawn up in 1808, made a particular devise of Three-Mile Point. The words of
the document were explicit: "I give and bequeath my place, called Myrtle Grove [Three-Mile Point], on the
west side of the Lake Otsego, to all my descendants in [Pg 286]common until the year 1850; then to be
inherited by the youngest thereof bearing my name."
But the results of the controversy were far-reaching. The quarrel gave rise to Cooper's unfortunate book Home
as Found, to new controversies, and to the long series of libel suits.
Home as Found was intended to set forth in the course of a story the principles involved in the dispute about
Three-Mile Point. It gave the author an opportunity also to enlarge upon his criticisms of America, and
particularly of New York City. For this purpose the story brought upon the scene an American family long
resident in Europe whom the writer called the Effinghams. Against the vulgar background of American life
the members of this family were intended to personify all the accomplishments of culture and social
refinement.
Cooper's own attitude was astonishing in his failure to realize that in the Effinghams he would be supposed to
be representing himself and his own family. The intimation was sufficiently obvious. The family returned
from residence abroad; the removal to the village of "Templeton," with direct reference to The Pioneers; the
story of the Three-Mile Point controversy—the inference seemed to follow from the parallel that the
Effinghams were the Coopers. But Cooper's general unwillingness to acknowledge that any of his characters
were drawn from life was here carried to the last extreme. It was evident that he was honestly unconscious of
any such inference; his purpose was to deal with principles, not [Pg 287]persons. When the name of
Effingham was derisively applied to him, he resented the imputation.
The controversy between Cooper and his critics had now reached a degree of violence that was grotesque. To
stand alone, as Cooper stood, against furious assaults that represented the sentiments of nearly the whole
public was not conducive to playful moods of the spirit; yet the controversy had its humorous side, and if the
novelist had had a keen sense of humor he would have been spared much trouble. Certain aspects of the
ludicrous appealed to Cooper, and there was a range of absurdity within which his merriment was easily
excited, as when he laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks because his man-of-all-work thought that
boiled oil should be called "biled ile"; but his attempts to create and sustain humorous characters, such as the
singing-master in The Last of the Mohicans, justify Balzac's comments on Cooper's "profound and radical
impotence for the comic." Nothing could be more comic than his rôle of lecturer to the American people upon
refinements of social usage and manners. The many who were guilty of the vulgarities which he wished to
correct were precisely those who could not be made to see the impropriety of them, and most fiercely resented
any attempt to improve their deportment. If Cooper had possessed an acute sense of humor he would never
have written Home as Found, nor would he have dignified with a reply the attack of every scribbler who
assailed him. But he took all criticisms seriously, and felt it a solemn duty, in justice [Pg 288]to himself and to
the principles for which he stood, to defend himself against all and sundry. There is no doubt that in standing
alone against the whole world he believed himself to be performing a public service, and displayed a degree
of courage which is too rare not to command extraordinary admiration. At the same time those of his friends
who described him as borne down by the weight of his sorrow at the misunderstanding and ingratitude which
he encountered had not taken the full measure of his character. So splendid a fighter as Fenimore Cooper
usually finds some pleasure in fighting, especially if, as in his case, he is habitually victorious. He leaped into

the fray of each controversy with such alacrity that it is difficult to avoid the belief that Cooper was animated
not only by a sense of justice, but by a joy of battle.
The occasion of the libel suits was the publication in August, 1837, in the Otsego Republican, a Cooperstown
newspaper, of an article copied from the Norwich Telegraph, in which Cooper was roundly abused in
reference to the Three-Mile Point controversy, and to which the Republican added comments of its own,
repeating the disproved statement that the father of the novelist had reserved the Point for the use of the
inhabitants of the village. Cooper promptly notified the editor of the Republican, Andrew M. Barber, that
unless the statements were retracted he would enter suit for libel. Barber refused to retract; the suit was begun;
and in May, 1839, at the final trial, the jury returned a verdict of [Pg 289]four hundred dollars for the plaintiff.
The editor sought to avoid the payment of the whole award, and a great outcry was raised against Cooper
because the sheriff levied upon some money which Barber had laid away and locked up in a trunk. Cooper
sued also the Norwich Telegraph, and when other newspapers took the side of their associates he entered suit
promptly against any that published libelous statements. In this way one suit led to another, until Cooper was
bringing action against the Oneida Whig, published at Utica; the Courier and Enquirer of New York, edited
by James Watson Webb; the Evening Signal of New York, edited by Park Benjamin; the Commercial
Advertiser of New York, edited by Col. William L. Stone; the Tribune, edited by Horace Greeley; and the
Albany Evening Journal, edited by Thurlow Weed. This list includes the leading Whig journals of the time in
the State of New York, which were among the most influential in the whole country. Col. Stone, Thurlow
Weed, and Watson Webb were former residents of Cooperstown, the two first named having each served an
apprenticeship as printer in the office of the Freeman's Journal. Weed was recognized as the leader of the
Whig party in the nation, and his newspaper was correspondingly important. He was Cooper's most persistent
opponent, and in 1841 the novelist had commenced five suits against him for various articles published in the
Evening Journal. It is a curious fact that Weed was noted as a bigoted admirer of his adversary's novels. Weed
himself [Pg 290]afterward related that when about to leave Albany by stage-coach to attend one of these trials,
and inquiring at the booksellers for some late publication to read on the journey, he was informed that the only
new book was The Two Admirals, which had just been issued. "I took the book," said Weed, "and soon
became so absorbed that I had hardly any time or thought for the trial, through which the author who charmed
me was trying to push me to the wall."
The libel suits extended over the period from 1838 to 1844. Cooper acted almost wholly as his own lawyer,
and argued his own cases in court. He was pitted against leaders of the bar in the greatest State in the Union.
He had become personally unpopular, and was engaged in an unpopular cause. He won his verdicts from
reluctant juries, but, in nearly every case, he won. The libel law of the State of New York was made, to a great
extent, by the Fenimore Cooper cases.
To complete the story, the final disposition of Three-Mile Point, the innocuous cause of all this controversy,
must here be anticipated. In 1899 Simon Uhlman, a wealthy hop merchant, purchased a summer home on the
lakeside nearest to Three-Mile Point, and, desiring to acquire this tongue of land for his own use, made
inquiries of Samuel M. Shaw, the veteran editor of the Freeman's Journal, to ascertain from whom the
purchase might be made. Shaw learned from G. Pomeroy Keese that under the terms of Judge Cooper's will,
the Point was then owned by William Cooper of Baltimore, and hastily [Pg 291]arranged for the purchase at a
moderate price, not for Uhlman, but for the village of Cooperstown. Thus Uhlman lost a desirable water front,
and William Cooper a big price for his land, but the citizens of Cooperstown gained a playground, the denial
of which to their forebears had nearly caused a riot. Uhlman afterward sold his place, Uncas Lodge, to
Adolphus Busch of St. Louis.
Cooper's reputation as an author suffered from his success as a litigant in an unpopular cause, and his
prosecution of the libel suits injured the sale of his books, not only then, but for some years after his death. In
1844, just after Cooper had reduced the newspapers of the State to silence, Edward Everett Hale visited
Cooperstown, and says that when he tried to buy a copy of The Pioneers at a local bookseller's the dealer

coolly declared that he had never heard of the book.[113]
While public attention was engaged by the libel suits, Cooper was occupied with much else. It was during this
period that he published his important Naval History, besides ten of his novels. Nor was there any loss of
interest in his various avocations, among which, in 1840, he found time to plan and supervise extensive
alterations in Christ Church, of which he had become a vestryman in 1835. With his mind full of the Gothic
splendor of churches that he had seen in England, he set out to beautify the village church at home. The broad
windows with rounded tops he caused to be somewhat narrowed, and pointed, in the [Pg 292]fashion usually
described as Gothic. Traces of this change still appear in the exterior brickwork of the church, for the outline
of the original windows has never been obliterated. To this alteration Cooper added the buttresses all about the
church, not for structural necessity, but as an architectural embellishment. The interior he caused to be entirely
remodeled, and finished in native oak. Cooper especially prided himself upon an oaken screen which, as his
gift to the church, he erected behind the altar. The alterations in the church are referred to in a letter dated
"Hall, Cooperstown, April 22nd, 1840" and addressed to Harmanus Bleecker of Albany:
"I have just been revolutionizing Christ Church, Cooperstown, not turning out a vestry, but converting its pine
interior into oak—bona fide oak, and erecting a screen that I trust, though it may have no influence on
my soul, will carry my name down to posterity. It is really a pretty thing—pure Gothic, and is the
wonder of the country round."
This screen remained in the church, with some alteration, until 1891, when, at the time the chancel was built,
it was unfortunately thrown out and not replaced. In 1910 the remnants of the old screen were reconstructed to
fit the two archways that open into the church on either side of the chancel, and the panels of the original work
were cut out, allowing a vista through the tracery. The screen that stands at the left hand as one faces the
chancel is almost entirely of the original design and material.

The Cooper Screens in Christ Church
[Pg 293]
Amid his manifold interests, Fenimore Cooper at one time amused himself in the study of the so-called occult
sciences. Having advocated with apparent enthusiasm a belief in animal magnetism and clairvoyance, he
caused public meetings to be held in the old Court House in Cooperstown, where, evening after evening, the
mysteries of hypnotism were discussed. On one of these occasions a negro, who had proved at several
meetings to be an excellent subject, was hypnotized in the presence of the audience, and pronounced to [Pg
294]be both clairvoyant and insensible to pain. While Cooper was descanting eloquently upon this strange
phenomenon, the darkey, suddenly rolling up his eyeballs, and displaying all his ivory, sprung spasmodically
into the air, and then tumbled back in his seat. This startling interruption of the lecture remained unexplained
for many years, until Elihu Phinney, the young friend and neighbor of Fenimore Cooper, confessed to being
responsible for it. It seems that, during the course of the lectures, Phinney had had an argument with Harvey
Perkins concerning the possibility of a truly hypnotic state, which Perkins affirmed and Phinney denied.
Perkins finally said:

"So, you won't admit that the negro is rendered insensible to pain?"
"Never, no, not for a moment," was the reply.
"Well," said Perkins, "here is a darning needle four inches long. Take this with you to the lecture to-night, and
at the first opportunity thrust it slyly for a full inch into his thigh. If he flinches, I will give up; if not, you will
believe."
"Most assuredly," said Phinney, and it was this test which caused the interruption of Fenimore Cooper's
lecture on hypnotism.[114]
In the summer of 1843, at about eleven o'clock every morning, Fenimore Cooper was seen coming forth from
the gates of Otsego Hall escorting a strange-looking companion. The figures of the two men offered a singular
contrast. Cooper, tall and portly, with the ruddy glow of health upon [Pg 295]his countenance, was swinging a
light whip of a cane more ornamental than useful, and stepped forward with a firm and elastic tread. The man
by his side was a shriveled and weather-beaten hulk, hobbling, and with halting step pressing heavily upon a
crooked stick that served for his support. Sometimes they walked the village streets together. At other times
they came down upon the border of the lake for a sail upon its waters in a skiff which Cooper had rigged with
a lug-sail in recollection of early Mediterranean days. Here the stranger was more at home, for the man was
Ned Myers, an old sailor who had been Cooper's messmate on board the Sterling nearly forty years before.
The old salt, who had passed a lifetime on many seas, developed a great respect for Otsego Lake, which he
found to be "a slippery place to navigate." "I thought I had seen all sorts of winds before I saw the Otsego," he
afterward declared, "but on this lake it sometimes blew two or three different ways at the same time."
It was a strange chance which renewed the acquaintance between Fenimore Cooper and Ned Myers. Their
ways were long separated. Myers had continued to follow the sea, and became at last a derelict at the "Sailor's
Snug Harbor" at the port of New York. Here it was that having read some of Cooper's sea tales it occurred to
the old sailor that the author might be the young James Cooper whom he had known aboard the Sterling.
Accordingly he wrote to the novelist at Cooperstown, seeking the desired information, [Pg 296]and received
in reply a cordial letter beginning with the words, "I am your old shipmate, Ned."

Alice Choate

At Fenimore Cooper's Grave
On his next visit in New York, Cooper got into touch with Myers, and invited the old tar to spend several
weeks of the summer as his guest at Otsego Hall in Cooperstown. The novelist had much in common with
Ned Myers, for his own experience at sea was sufficient to qualify him as a sailor. "I have been myself," said
Cooper, "one of eleven hands, officers included, to navigate a ship of three hundred tons across the Atlantic
Ocean; and, what is more, we often reefed topsails with the watch." While in Cooperstown as the guest of the
novelist the old sailor who had shipped on seventy-two different craft, and had passed a quarter of a century
out of sight of land, spun the yarn of his experience which Cooper wove into the story of Ned Myers.
It is remarkable that one whose writings evince so strong an orthodoxy of Christian faith, with a
championship of churchly doctrines too rigid for many of his readers, did not himself become a communicant
of the Church until the last year of his life. On Sunday, July 27, 1851, Bishop de Lancey visited Christ
Church, Cooperstown, and among those to whom he administered the sacrament of Confirmation, in the
presence of a large congregation, was his brother-in-law, James Fenimore Cooper. The novelist's family pew
was one which stood sidelong at the right of the chancel. He had by this time become quite infirm, and the
bishop, after receiving the other candidates at the sanctuary rail, left the chancel, and [Pg 298]administered
Confirmation to Fenimore Cooper kneeling in his own pew.
Fenimore Cooper died less than two months later, on Sunday, September 14, 1851, aged sixty-two years
lacking one day. The body lay in state at Otsego Hall, and on Wednesday the funeral services were held in
Christ Church, the interment being made in the Cooper plot in Christ churchyard. This grave, covered by the
prostrate slab of marble marked by a cross, and bearing an inscription that sets forth nothing beyond the
novelist's name, with dates of birth and death, has become a shrine of literary pilgrimage. The hurried tourist
is disappointed in not being greeted by some conspicuous monument to beckon him at once to the famous
tomb; but a more genuine tribute to the novelist's memory appears when the visitor's eye lights upon the path
leading from the gate of the enclosure, and deeply worn in the sod by the feet of wayfarers in many a long
journey, through the years, to Cooper's grave.
FOOTNOTES:
[102] James Fenimore Cooper, by Mary E. Phillips, p. 262.
[103] In 1826 he applied to the legislature to change his name to James Cooper Fenimore, since there were no
men of his mother's family to continue the name. The request was not granted, but the change was made to
James Fenimore-Cooper. He soon dropped the hyphen.
[104] Now in the hall at Fynmere, the home built in Cooperstown by the novelist's grandson, James Fenimore
Cooper of Albany.
[105] James Fenimore Cooper, by Thomas R. Lounsbury, American Men of Letters series, p. 80.
[106] Now at Fynmere.
[107] Now at Edgewater.
[108] Pages and Pictures, Susan Fenimore Cooper, p. 322.
[109] James Fenimore Cooper, W. B. Shubrick Clymer, p. 90.
[110] Livermore, p. 204.

[111] John Worthington, afterward United States Consul in Malta.
[112] Lounsbury.
[113] Cooperstown Centennial Book, p. 133.
[114] Reminiscences, Elihu Phinney, 1890.
[Pg 299]
CHAPTER XV
MR. JUSTICE NELSON

Samuel Nelson, LL.D., who became a resident of Cooperstown in 1824, made this village his home for nearly
fifty years. At the time of his death in 1873, he had long been recognized not only as the first citizen of
Cooperstown, but as a man of national reputation.
Before taking up his residence in Cooperstown, Nelson had become judge of the Sixth circuit, which included
Otsego county; in 1831 he was promoted to the bench of the Supreme Court of the State, of which, six years
later, he became chief justice. In 1845 he went upon the bench of the Supreme Court of the United States, and
served with distinction until his voluntary retirement in 1872, which brought to a close the longest judicial
career in history, covering a period of half a century. In 1871 Judge Nelson was one of five members
representing the United States in the Joint High Commission appointed to devise means to settle differences
between the American and British governments, and contributed not a little to bringing about the agreement
which resulted in the Treaty of Washington.
[Pg 300]
During this long public career, Judge Nelson retained his home in Cooperstown, where he was in residence
much of the time. In that day the drift of successful men to the cities had not yet become a law of growth, and
many a big man dwelt by choice in a small community. So it was with Judge Nelson, who, on retiring from
the highest tribunal of the nation, could imagine nothing more grateful than to spend all his time in the village
from which the pressure of judicial duty had kept him too much away.
CHAPTER XV 150
MR. JUSTICE NELSON 151

Samuel Nelson, LL.D.
Judge Nelson first became widely known in [Pg 301]1837, when he was appointed chief justice of the
Supreme Court of the State of New York. The court was then composed of three judges, whose principal duty
it was to hear and decide questions of law. It was a judicial body of great dignity and learning, with a fame so
illustrious that its decisions had long been cited as authority in Westminster Hall, and in all the States of the
Union where the common law prevailed.
In the Supreme Court of the United States, when he was promoted to that tribunal, and in the United States
Circuit Courts, Judge Nelson was called upon to administer branches of law with which he was not in practice
familiar, and some fears were expressed that these untried duties might cause him embarrassment. It was
suggested that his long and severely critical administration of the common law, through its pleadings and
practice, might have so educated him that he would fail in appreciating the more liberal and expansive
systems of Equity, Maritime, Admiralty, and international jurisprudence administered in the national courts;
and it was also thought improbable that a judge who had been early in professional life elevated to the bench
of a common law court, would be able to explore and understand the complicated mechanical, chemical, and
other scientific questions, which in Patent causes were constantly arising for exclusive adjudication in the
federal courts.
But these apprehensions were all disappointed. Judge Nelson had no sooner taken his seat on the [Pg
302]bench of the Circuit Court in New York City,[115] than he perceived that the cases on the calendar,
though few in number, were so complicated, and embraced so many intricate questions, that they must be
mastered according to a method that his former experience did not furnish. He investigated every new
question as it arose. He listened earnestly to the arguments of counsel, and ever seemed resolved, before they
concluded, to understand the points on which the case must finally turn. Often he descended from the bench
when complicated machinery, or specimens illustrative of science, or models of vessels intended to develop
the relations of colliding ships, were before him, and by their close and repeated study strove to understand
the real points in controversy.
Thus Judge Nelson built up a sound knowledge of the principles and practice of every branch of law which he
was called upon to administer. An appeal or writ of error from his decisions was seldom taken. So familiar did
he become with the jurisprudence involved in the administration of the Patent laws of this country, so
thoroughly did he investigate questions of science and mechanics, and so sound a judgment was he known to
form on these subjects, that his opinions concerning them were by courts and counsel accepted as of greater
authority than those of any other judge. For many years before the close of [Pg 303]his labors at the Circuit,
patentees felt that when he had judicially passed upon their rights they were substantially settled, and hence
there came before him repeatedly from distant points cases involving the validity of the most valuable patents
in the country, and to his decision the parties generally submitted without appeal. On questions of admiralty
and maritime law also he came to be considered a great authority. In his later years he was so adept in
reaching the essential points of complicated cases that he was generally credited with a marvellous faculty of
intuition. He was not guided by any intuition, however, but by the results of his careful study and legal
experience.
In 1857 the Supreme Court of the United States rendered the famous Dred Scott decision, which became one
of the contributory causes of the Civil War. Only two members of the court dissented. Justice Nelson
concurred in the conclusion of Chief Justice Taney, who delivered the decision, dissenting on one point only,
and adding that, in his opinion, the power of Congress could not be one-sided; if it existed to destroy slavery,
it could also establish slavery.
Judge Nelson had gained some acquaintance with slavery in his own home town, for, when first he took up his
residence in Cooperstown, in 1824, there were a number of slaves in the village. Some of the earliest settlers

had negroes in bondage. Among these was James Averell, Jr., who worked his tannery by slave labor. One of
his slaves, known as Tom Bronk, was for many years [Pg 304]well known in Cooperstown as the servant of
the former owner's son, William Holt Averell, and lived to a great age. The clumsily written bill of sale by
which Tom Bronk became the property of James Averell, Jr., is still in existence:
Know all men by these Presents, that I, George Henry Livingston, of the town of Sharon, County of Schoharie
and State of New York, for and in Consideration of the Sum of three hundred Dollars Lawful money of the
State of New York to me in hand paid by James Averill Jr of the town and County of Otsego and State
Aforesaid At or before the Sealing and delivery of these Presents, the Receipt whereof, I the said George
Henry Livingston do hereby acknowledge, have granted, bargained and sold, and by these presents, do grant,
bargain and sell, unto the said James Averill Jr, his Executors, Administrators, and assigns, one negro man
About thirty Six years of age and known by the name of Tom to have and to hold the said negro man Tom to
the said James Averill Jr. his Executors, Administrators, and assigns forever; and I the said George Henry
Livingston for myself, my heirs Executors, and Administrators the Said negro man unto the said James
Averill Jr. his Executors, administrators, and assigns, against me the said George Henry Livingston, my
Executors, and Administrators, and against all and every other person or persons Whomsoever Shall and will
warrent. And forever Defend by these presents. And also warrent the said negro man to be Sound and in
health. According to the best of my knowledge in witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and Seal the
Second Day of October in the year of our Lord one thousand Eight hundred Fifteen.
Signed, Sealed, and Delivered

In Presence of
ZACHARIAH HUGER
KOERL VAN SCHAYCK
GEORGE X HENRY LIVINGSTON.
his mark
[Pg 305]
A group of settlers who came from the Barbadoes brought with them slaves, who were afterward freed, and
the tombstone of Joseph Stewart, in the Cooper family plot in Christ churchyard, emphasizes, in capital
letters, the fact that, although born a slave, he was for twenty years a free servant of Judge Cooper. These
instances, and an advertisement in the Otsego Herald in 1799, show that slavery was not uncommon here in
the early days:
A YOUNG WENCH—For Sale—She is a good cook, and ready at all kinds of housework.
None can exceed her if she is kept from liquor. She is 24 years of age—no husband nor children. Price
$200; inquire of the printer.
The act which entirely abolished slavery in the State of New York did not take effect until July 4th, 1827, on
which occasion about sixty Cooperstown negroes marched with a flying banner and martial music to the
Presbyterian church, where Hayden Waters, a village darkey, delivered an address that was heard not only by
his colored brethren, but by a large assemblage of white citizens.
Justice Nelson's concurrence in the Dred Scott decision did not necessarily register his approval of slavery,
but only his interpretation of the law as it then existed. He never owned any slaves, and was regarded by the
negroes in Cooperstown as a powerful friend of their race. A favorite servant of his household for some years
was a free negro named Jenny York, who had been a [Pg 306]slave in her youth. She was a unique character,
famous as a cook, having an unusually keen appreciation of a cook's perquisites. Choice provisions and
delicacies disappeared through systematic dole at Judge Nelson's kitchen door, or sometimes being reserved
against a holiday, reappeared to furnish a banquet in the servants' hall, to which Jenny's many dusky friends

were bidden. The current story is that, when Jenny died, the negroes of the village chose for her grave an
epitaph which, at their request, Judge Nelson caused to be inscribed upon her tomb exactly as they had
worded it. This inscription may still be seen upon a tombstone that faces the street at the eastern end of Christ
churchyard, in the part which was reserved for the burial of negroes. Jenny was sincerely mourned at the time
of her death, but with the passing of the years no tears are shed at her grave but those of sympathetic laughter.
A just appreciation of the delicate balance of mercy and justice in her unusual epitaph requires some definite
knowledge of both the virtues and weaknesses of Jenny York. The enigmatical eulogy reads as follows:
JENNY YORK
DIED FEB. 22, 1837.
AET. 50 YEA.
SHE HAD HER FAULTS

BUT
WAS KIND TO THE POOR.
When Nelson went upon the bench of the national Supreme Court he became acquainted with [Pg
307]Stephen A. Douglas, who was then springing into prominence in Congress; and it was said that the "little
giant" got much of the legal ammunition for his speeches from the new associate justice. More than once
Justice Nelson was suggested as the Democratic candidate for President of the United States, and at the
Democratic national convention held in Chicago during the Civil War Governor Horatio Seymour of New
York attempted to carry his nomination. It was known, however, that Judge Nelson had declined to allow the
use of his name, and had expressed the opinion that a justice of the federal supreme court never should be
regarded as a possible candidate for political office. Nelson at this time was in many ways the strongest man
on the bench of the Supreme Court, and Salmon P. Chase, who was appointed chief justice in 1864, placed
great reliance upon his advice and judgment. On one occasion at the table of John V. L. Pruyn in Albany,
when his host addressed Chase as "Mr. Chief Justice," the latter pleasantly interrupted him—"Your
friend Nelson is Chief Justice," he said.
During the Civil War, although a member of the Democratic party, Justice Nelson won and retained the
confidence of the party in power, and his loyalty was never questioned. He disapproved of what he held to be
invasions of the rights of citizens which were made under military authority, but never by word or act
obstructed the maintenance of the federal government. President Lincoln and Secretary Seward reposed great
[Pg 308]faith in Judge Nelson's wisdom, and in critical emergencies consulted him upon delicate questions of
international law which arose during the progress of the war.
An episode of the Civil War period in Cooperstown, although the truth of the matter was a state secret at the
time, had a relation to Justice Nelson that is of interest in this connection. In a visit of the diplomatic corps
from Washington the village enjoyed such memorable emotions of civic pride that the date of the event, the
twenty-first of August, 1863, was long afterward referred to, by the oldest inhabitants, as "Cooperstown's
great day."
It was said that the entertainment of the legations at Cooperstown was included as part of an excursion
through New York State which Secretary Seward had planned to impress upon foreign governments the
strength and resources of the North.
The party arrived from Sharon Springs, and had luncheon at the Inn at Five-Mile Point, on Otsego Lake.
Secretary Seward's guests included Lord Lyons, of England; Baron Gerolt, of Prussia; M. Mercier, of France;
Baron Stroeckel, of Russia; M. Tassara, of Spain; M. Molina, of Nicaragua; together with the representatives
of Italy, Sweden, and Chili; and several secretaries and attachés of various legations. A few citizens of
Cooperstown, including Judge Nelson, were invited to take luncheon with the visitors. The master of

ceremonies was the Hon. Levi C. Turner of Cooperstown, who was at that time [Pg 309]Judge advocate in the
War Department, and had accompanied the party from Washington.
The luncheon passed without incident, except that a weighty citizen of the village undertook to demonstrate,
for the benefit of the foreigners, the American method of eating corn on the cob, to the great disgust of a
dapper attaché of the British legation, who was horrified by the performance. When the guests had left the
table, which had been set beneath the trees, and were lounging about in peaceful enjoyment of the forest shade
and lakeland view, there appeared upon the scene a person who impressed the foreigners as being a veritable
pioneer. He was a tall, loose-jointed creature, bearded and long-haired; he wore a slouch hat and a hickory
shirt, while one suspender supported blue jean overalls, which disappeared in a pair of cowhide boots of huge
proportions. This uninvited guest calmly inspected the assembled company, drew near to the deserted tables,
helped himself to a tumbler and a bottle of brandy, from which he poured out four fingers of the fiery liquid,
and drank it raw. He seemed thoughtful for a moment; then repeated the dose. Thus agreeably stimulated the
stranger made himself at home in the company, and became talkative.
"I say," he said, bustling alongside the French minister, "you're goin' to stand right by us in this muss, ain't
you?"
The polite diplomat hastened to assure him that the French government desired nothing but the most friendly
relations. The man drew nearer [Pg 310]than was necessary for diplomatic intercourse:
"Honor bright, now, and no foolin'?"
The ambassador repeated his assurance of friendship, and edged away from the pioneer, whose gesticulations
became alarming as he shouted,
"You've got to, don't you see—"
What he wanted the Frenchman to see was the power of the Union Government, and, as words failed him to
describe it, the uninvited guest attempted to make visible, in his own person, the frightfulness of the god of
War. He leaped into the air, flung his hat on the ground, struck a pugilistic attitude, and began to dance around
the ambassador, squaring off with his fists, as though preparing a knockout blow for the French Republic. The
two were quickly surrounded by a ring of diplomats and citizens of Cooperstown, the foreigners being
doubtful whether the matter should be taken in jest or earnest, while the villagers were hesitating between
enjoyment of the comedy and a sense of duty toward their guests. As for M. Mercier, he was aghast at the
rudeness of the challenge. He folded his arms, drew himself up, shrugged his shoulders, puffed out his cheeks,
and stared at the adversary with eyes aflame.
Before the pugilistic stranger could execute his threats Judge Hezekiah Sturges of Cooperstown interposed his
burly form; at a nod from him two muscular citizens of the village seized the invader by the back of the neck
and the seat of his overalls, made him "walk Spanish" quickly to the shore, and heaved him into the lake.
[Pg 311]
In the late afternoon the party of diplomats were conveyed by carriages to Cooperstown, where they became
severally the guests of various citizens. The distinguished visitors were greeted by a salute of guns; while
fireworks and bonfires were the order of the evening. The Fly Creek Band, accompanied by a large crowd of
villagers, under the leadership of James I. Hendryx, serenaded the foreign ministers at their various places of
sojourn, and speeches were called for, which were loudly applauded. Judge Turner's house, the old Campbell
homestead, which stands on Lake Street, facing Chestnut Street, was first visited, for there William H.
Seward, Secretary of State, was the guest of honor. The band played a waltz, and the crowd cheered. Judge

Turner soon appeared, and introduced the Secretary of State, who made a brief speech. He said that the
weather in Washington had become exasperatingly hot; matters of complex nature and of international
importance had to be discussed; there was danger that he and the foreign minsters might become fretful and
peevish; and so he had asked the entire diplomatic corps to take a vacation, and meanwhile affairs of State
might go hang.
The speech pleased the crowd. The band played another waltz, to the tune of which the procession marched
through the main street and across the river to Woodside, where Lord Lyons, the British minister, was the
guest of John F. Scott. Here the band played a third waltz, while hundreds of cheering men clambered up the
[Pg 312]terraced slope of the garden. Some one called for Lord Lyons, and the whole crowd took up the cry,
"Lord Lyons! Lord Lyons!" This soon became "Lyons! Lyons!" although one enthusiastic Irishman of great
vocal power kept crying, "Misther Lynes! Misther Lynes!"
At this point the leader of the band was instructed to play "God Save the Queen," as a compliment to the guest
of Woodside.
"My heaven!" he whined, "we can't play nothing but three waltzes!"
One of the waltzes was then repeated, and the host of Woodside appeared. He explained that Lord Lyons had
been paying a visit across the river, but was expected to return at any moment. Just then Lord Lyons himself
came hopping up the steps of the terrace, short, fat, lively, a man of talent, who soon recovered his breath, and
made a speech that elicited hearty cheers.
The Russian ambassador was the guest of Edward Clark at Apple Hill, where Fernleigh now stands. The
diplomat had retired when the crowd of serenaders arrived, and was awakened by the blare of the band and
loud demands for "a speech from the great Roosian bear!" The guest was assisted by his host to crawl through
the window over the porch, in scanty raiment, to speak to the assembled citizens. At the residence of Jedediah
P. Sill, which stands on Chestnut Street next to the Methodist parsonage, the Italian ambassador received the
crowd with bows and smiles.
Similar visits were paid at the places of sojourn [Pg 313]of the other representatives of foreign powers; but the
most uproarious assembly was that which gathered before the home of George L. Bowne, where the Spanish
ambassador was being entertained. This house stands on the west side of Chestnut Street, next south of
Willow Brook, which here ducks beneath a culvert to cross the highway.
The representative of the Queen of Spain had only a limited knowledge of the English language, but what he
lacked in vocabulary he made up in gestures, shrugging his shoulders up to his ears.
"Gentlemen," he began, "you will excuse me from a speech. In my country, we, the nobility, do not make
speeches to the common people."—(Vigorous cheers greeted this statement, and Judge Turner, who
stood near the speaker, remarked, "True, every word.") "I the English language not well do
speak,"—("Go on, go on; you're a daisy, that's what you are," cried voices from the crowd, while Judge
Turner kept saying with judicial gravity, "Every word true.") At this point the Spaniard became incoherent,
but, although nobody could understand a word, wild cheers greeted him at every pause in his discourse. He let
loose a flood of eloquence, which being consistently endorsed by Judge Turner, was applauded until the
speaker stopped from sheer exhaustion.[116]
It was long after midnight when the last speech had been made and the crowds dispersed.

The Home of Justice Nelson
[Pg 314]
A pair of small boys, who had made the occasion an excuse for staying out a good part of the warm summer
night, passed Justice Nelson's residence on Main Street, as they strolled homeward, and noticed that here a
light was still burning. The deserted street was feebly lit by a few gas lamps, but the other houses in the
neighborhood were dark, and the boys were attracted as moths to a flame by the glimmering through the
blinds of [Pg 315]Judge Nelson's windows. The lighted room was the one on the ground floor at the right of
the doorway. Because of the warmth of the night, the window-sashes had been raised, and the curtains drawn
back, so that the interior of the room was screened from passers-by only by the closed slats of the blinds.
These were temptingly near to the sidewalk, and the young imps, standing on tiptoe, did not hesitate, when

they had discovered a chink between the slats, to peek into the apartment.
They saw a room lined with rows of books bound in law-calf, for it was Judge Nelson's library. In the midst a
student's lamp shed a mellow light upon the usual paraphernalia of a lawyer's desk, and dimly illuminated the
features of two men who sat facing each other across the table. The large form, massive head, and long gray
hair of Judge Nelson, who sat with his back to the fireplace, were instantly recognized by the peering eyes at
the window. The man who faced him was of a different type, a rather small figure, with nothing commanding
in his appearance; he had a shock of sandy hair, blue eyes, and a smoothly shaven mouth and chin somewhat
receding from a finely chiseled nose. He was speaking earnestly, and in a tone of conviction. His voice was
harsh, but his manner was suave, agreeable, and persuasive.
"Who's he?" whispered one of the boys.
"That's Mr. Seward from Washington," replied the other, "I heard him make a speech in front of Judge
Turner's house."
[Pg 316]
The eavesdroppers continued to listen, but the conversation between Judge Nelson and Mr. Seward was
carried on in such low tones that they could make little of it. Now and again they caught a
phrase—"more troops"—"President Lincoln"—"save the Union,"—but the purport
of the matter was beyond them.
The spying youngsters crept into their beds that night laden with a sense of mystery in this weird consultation,
of which they had been witnesses, between the senior justice of the Supreme Court of the United States and
the Secretary of State of the United States. Next day they boasted among their comrades of having discovered
some secret affair of state.
Years afterward, through Justice Nelson's son, Judge R. R. Nelson of St. Paul, Minnesota, it came out that
these young spies had rightly divined the truth. The conference which the Secretary of State held with Justice
Nelson during the small hours of the morning of August 22nd, 1863, was had at the instance of President
Lincoln, and was importantly related to the conduct of the Civil War. The conference itself, in fact, was the
secret motive of the diplomatic excursion, which had been designed especially to divert attention from it.
It seems that the administration at Washington had become greatly worried over a situation that had developed
concerning the drafting of troops. A heavy draft had been ordered,—Otsego county had been called
upon to furnish nearly a thousand men,—and there was great excitement throughout [Pg 317]the
northern states. At this critical juncture one of Justice Nelson's associates on the bench, who was sitting in the
United States Circuit in Pennsylvania, had granted a writ of habeas corpus directing a certain drafted man to
be brought before him, and the position taken by counsel was that the draft was unconstitutional and illegal.
This justice, like Nelson, belonged to the Democratic party, and was therefore in many ways opposed to the
Lincoln administration. He was known to entertain opinions which might lead him to decide that the draft was
unconstitutional.
President Lincoln became apprehensive, and sent for Secretary Seward.
"We must have more troops," said the President, "and we can get them in only one way. Now if this draft
should be declared unconstitutional, it would create a most serious state of affairs at the North, and would
greatly encourage the South; it might even defeat our efforts to save the Union. In some way, if possible, this
situation of affairs must be prevented."

"I know of but one man who can prevent it," replied Seward. "He is a strong personal friend of the
Pennsylvania justice, and of the same political party, though more loyal to the Union. I think he can influence
him. I refer to Justice Nelson of the Supreme Court, who is now at his home in Cooperstown."
When the President urged the Secretary to confer with Judge Nelson without delay, Seward was somewhat
taken aback. To summon Nelson to Washington in order to ask of him so delicate a [Pg 318]favor was not to
be thought of. On the other hand for the Secretary of State to go to Cooperstown to confer with the
Democratic justice would be certain to provoke political gossip and newspaper speculation, at the risk of
defeating the object desired.
But President Lincoln was determined.
"In some way it must be done," he said. "You must see Justice Nelson."
The upshot of the matter was that the fertile brain of the Secretary evolved and carried out the plan that
brought the diplomatic corps from Washington to Cooperstown on an excursion, under color of which he had
his interview with Justice Nelson.
The result was all that the Secretary of State had hoped for. Judge Nelson held that the draft was not
unconstitutional, and promptly so informed his friend in Pennsylvania, whose opinion was soon given in
accordance with the views of his learned associate.
Thus "Cooperstown's great day" turned out to be of wider import than the cheering crowds of villagers
imagined.
Justice Nelson's appointment by President Grant in 1871 as one of the five American members of the Joint
High Commission to negotiate a treaty with Great Britain was a just tribute to his personal character as well as
to his knowledge of international law. The matters in dispute concerned British possessions in North America,
as well as the so-called Alabama claims arising out of the Civil War. Justice Nelson was already [Pg
319]known by reputation to the British members of the commission, and they accorded him the fullest respect
and confidence. In this controversy, which rankled in the hearts and affected the judgment of millions of
people, Judge Nelson brought to the solution such wisdom and acuteness, accompanied by persuasive
manners, frankness, conscientiousness, and learning, that all accorded to him the highest consideration and
regard. His brilliant and successful service in the Joint High Commission during the seventy days of its
sessions was regarded as a fitting culmination of half a century of public office. For his signature of the Treaty
of Washington turned out to be his last official act. During the final hours of the session the chill of the rooms
in which the commissioners sat was the cause of an illness from which Justice Nelson never fully recovered,
and which occasioned his resignation from the bench of the Supreme Court in 1872. In commenting upon his
resignation, the New York Tribune said, "It would be difficult to exaggerate the respect and regard which will
follow this able and incorruptible jurist from the post he has so long filled with honor to himself and profit to
the commonwealth, when he retires to the well-earned repose which his gifts of mind and heart will enable
him so perfectly to enjoy."
In the village of Cooperstown the street called Nelson Avenue is named in honor of the distinguished jurist,
and three different places of residence are associated with his memory. When in 1825 he married, as his
second wife, Catharine A. [Pg 320]Russell, daughter of Judge John Russell of Cooperstown, they began
housekeeping at Apple Hill, on the site now occupied by Fernleigh. In 1829 they removed to Fenimore, which
still stands just outside of the village, near the western shore of the lake, and lived there until 1838, when they
took up their residence at Mrs. Nelson's homestead, the large brick house on the north side of Main Street near
the corner of Pioneer Street, and made it their home for the rest of their lives.

Nelson Avenue
Although Judge Nelson survived Fenimore Cooper by more than twenty years, he was only three years his
junior, and the two men became intimate personal friends in Cooperstown. They were often seen together on
the street, and in fine personal presence and noble bearing they bore [Pg 321]some resemblance to each other.
In the old stone Cory building on Main Street, when the lower part was conducted as a hardware store, Judge
Nelson and Fenimore Cooper used often to spend an evening, sitting about the stove in a circle of admiring
auditors gathered to hear the great men talk. It was shortly after Fenimore Cooper's return to Cooperstown to
live at Otsego Hall that Judge Nelson was appointed Chief Justice of the State, and Cooper ever thereafter
spoke of his friend as "the Chief." The novelist had a good deal of the lawyer in his composition, and he often
discussed legal matters with Judge Nelson, as well as political affairs of state. Both were fond of farming and
rural pursuits, and as their farms lay on opposite sides of the lake, Judge Nelson's at Fenimore, and Cooper's at
the Chalet, they were able frequently to compare notes of their success as agriculturists, perhaps with the more
interest because Cooper himself had formerly owned the farm at Fenimore.
Judge Nelson was not seldom seen on horseback in Cooperstown, and continued this form of exercise long
after he had passed the limit of three score years and ten. In his later years he was described as a
broad-shouldered and magnificent figure, with a massive head crowned with a wealth of gray hair. He was
simple and unaffected in his manners, and never assumed any magniloquence because of his exalted position.
On returning from Washington to Cooperstown for the summer, he seemed to delight in holding a kind of
indiscriminate levee in the main street of the village, [Pg 322]greeting old neighbors, shopkeepers, and
farmers alike, and remembering most of them by their Christian names. In those days the merchants were
accustomed to leave their empty packing-boxes on the sidewalk in front of their shops, and it was no
uncommon sight to see this Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States seated carelessly on a dry-goods
box, while he chatted with a group of admiring villagers. His conversation was always entertaining, not only

because of his wealth of mind, but on account of his prodigious memory of men and events. His gift of
memory was undoubtedly of great use to him on the bench, for he could restate complicated facts in cases so
long since heard by him that the issues had been forgotten by the counsel concerned in them.
Judge Nelson was for many years a vestryman, and later a warden, of Christ Church in Cooperstown. In his
day there was no thoroughfare through the Cooper Grounds, and he walked to church by way of River Street.
Above the stone wall on the west side of River Street was an abundant growth of tansy. It was Judge Nelson's
invariable habit to pick a sprig of tansy on his way to Sunday morning service, and he entered the church
absently holding the pungent herb to his nostrils, as he made his way to the pew now marked by a tablet in the
north transept.
On February 13, 1873, the honors paid to Judge Nelson on his retirement from the bench of the United States
Supreme Court were of a character never before known in America, and [Pg 323]not in England since Lord
Mansfield was the recipient of similar honors at the hands of Erskine and the other lights of the British bar. A
committee which included several of the foremost lawyers in New York City, and officially representing the
Bar of the Third District, came in a special car from New York to Cooperstown to present to Judge Nelson an
address expressive of appreciation of his long service on the bench, and of regret at his retirement, in
sympathy with similar resolutions adopted in Albany and Washington.
It was a gala day in Cooperstown when its most distinguished citizen was so honored. The streets, glistening
with snow, were filled with people careering about in sleighs. The American flag flapped in the breeze from
the tall liberty-pole which then stood at the midst of the cross-roads where Main and Pioneer streets intersect.
A horse-race upon the frozen lake had been arranged for the entertainment of the visitors, and some of the
young people had bob-sleds ready, prepared to give the distinguished metropolitan lawyers a thrilling ride
down the slope of Mt. Vision when the ceremonies should be over.
In the early afternoon the legal and judicial delegation walked quietly two by two to the residence of Judge
Nelson, which, although now invaded by the business requirements of the village, still holds its place on Main
Street. In the procession were three federal judges, and a dozen chosen members of the bar of New York. The
door of the old house, at which nobody stops to [Pg 324]knock any more, was thrown open to receive the
distinguished delegation. The villagers had gathered in the drawing-room, at the left of the entrance, to take
part in the ceremonies. Among many ladies who graced the scene the three daughters of Fenimore Cooper
were particularly noted by the visitors. The retired judge sat in his armchair, arrayed in black, wearing a high
choker necktie, while Mrs. Nelson, a lovely old lady with a face as fresh at seventy as a summer rain,
supported herself on the arm of the chair. The judicial delegation came into the parlor led by Judge Woodruff,
E. W. Stoughton, Judge Benedict, and Judge Blatchford, while Clarence A. Seward, Sidney Webster and
others followed. Judge Nelson retained his seat, and the most impressive silence prevailed. Then Stoughton,
chairman of the committee, after some introductory remarks, read the address which had been prepared by the
Bar of New York.
At the conclusion of this address Judge Nelson drew out his spectacles and read his reply, in a voice that
trembled with emotion. Then he rose slowly and received the personal congratulations of the delegation and
of the village friends assembled.
When, a few months later, Samuel Nelson was dead, and the press of the nation was printing lengthy eulogies
of his career as a jurist, a few lines in the little weekly newspaper of his own home town gave the highest
estimate of his life that can be accorded to any man:
"In his home Judge Nelson was a great man. [Pg 325]The almost extreme modesty which characterized his
public life had its counterpart in thoroughly developed domestic virtues, which not only made him beloved to
devotion by all the members of his family, but endeared him to all with whom he was brought into contact.

There was in his disposition a placidness of temper which made him always easy of approach, and rendered
intercourse with him a permanent spring of pure enjoyment."
FOOTNOTES:
[115] From the beginning justices of the Supreme Court of the United States sat, from time to time, as circuit
judges. (Stuart v. Laird, 1 Cranch, p. 308.) Justice Nelson was assigned to the Second Circuit, which includes
New York.
[116] Perry P. Rogers.
[Pg 326]
CHAPTER XVI
CHRIST CHURCHYARD
When in 1856 Frederick A. Lee and Dorr Russell formed the Lakewood Cemetery Association, and purchased
the beautiful tract that lies along the hill on the east side of the lake, a half-mile from the village, the older
burying-grounds within the town began gradually to be disused. Christ churchyard, which contains the oldest
graves of the original settlement, has long since ceased to be used for burials, beyond those occasionally
permitted, for special reasons, by act of the Vestry of the parish. This disuse has secured to the churchyard the
right to grow old gracefully, without the too frequent intrusion of recent death, and to acquire the picturesque
charm of antiquity which in cemeteries seems to dispel all the terrors of mortality.
CHAPTER XVI 162

Alice Choate
A Glimpse from the Rectory
CHRIST CHURCHYARD 163

The love of old burial-grounds belongs to a distinct type of mind and temperament. To some minds all
cemeteries are equally devoid of interest. Among visitors in Christ churchyard, of whom there are thousands
during every summer, the classification of sightseers is automatic. Some glance at Cooper's grave, peep into
the church to glimpse the memorials of the novelist, and hurry [Pg 327]away with an air of duty done. The
lovers of churchyards linger, and stroll thoughtfully among the tombs. They find a charm in the most obscure
memorials of the dead. They read aloud to each other the quaint inscriptions. Now and again they pause,
note-book in hand, to copy some chiseled epitaph that strikes the fancy. They kneel or lie prone upon the turf
before a crumbling tomb to decipher its doleful couplets, thrusting aside the concealing grasses, lest a word be
missed. They wander here and there beneath the shadow of the venerable elms and pines, and, before
departing, enter the old church, to rest and pray within the stillness of its fane.
Aside from the part of the churchyard reserved [Pg 328]for the burials of the Cooper family, the only enclosed
plot is the small one just south of it, squared in by a low fence of rusty iron. This belonged to the family of the
Rev. Frederick T. Tiffany, who succeeded Father Nash as rector of Christ Church, and afterward became a
chaplain in Congress.
The oldest tomb in the churchyard holds an inconspicuous place two tiers east of the Tiffany enclosure. It is
the grave of Samuel Griffin, the inn-keeper's child, who died at the Red Lion Tavern. The gravestone is dated
1792, which is ancient for this part of the country.
In the first burials within these grounds, it was the intention to regard the old Christian tradition in accord with
which the dead are buried with the feet toward the east. Yet, since the graves naturally follow the parallel of
the enclosure, which is not exactly east and west, but conforms to the general bent of the village, they fall
short, by a few points of the compass, of facing due east.
Among the early settlers of Cooperstown there was one family not to be put off with any vagueness of
orientation. It was that of Joshua Starr, a potter, whom Fenimore Cooper describes as "a respectable inhabitant
of the village." To the mind of Joshua Starr, who survived the other members of his family, it was plain that if
a proper grave should face east, it should face the east, and not east by south. Accordingly, the graves of the
Starr family, a few steps northward from Samuel Griffin's, are notable among [Pg 329]the tombs of Christ
churchyard in being set with the foot due east, as by a mariner's compass. The wide headstones split the plane
of the meridian; their edges cleave the noonday sun and the polar star. To the casual observer these three
tombstones, as compared with all others in the churchyard, seem quite awry. In reality they alone are
meticulously correct, a standing tribute to the exact eye of Joshua Starr, the potter.
Southward from Samuel Griffin's grave, in the next tier to the east, a curious use of verse appears upon two
stones, whereby Capt. Joseph Jones and his wife Keziah, both dying in 1799, seem to converse in responsive
couplets. Mrs. Jones avers, majestically,
Within this Silent grave I ly.

To which the hero of the Revolution quite meekly replies,
This space is all I occupy.

The crudeness of some epitaphs gives them a grotesque touch of realism. Here is one just south of the
squared-in Tiffany plot:
Mourn not since freed from

human ills,
My dearest friends & two
Infants still,
My consumptive pains God

semed well,
My soul to prepair with
him to dwell.
[Pg 330]
Northward of this tomb is a sarcophagus that shows a well laid plan in a state of perpetual incompletion.
Besides serving as a monument of the dead, the tomb was intended to be a kind of family record. The names
of children and grandchildren were inscribed, and as they departed this life their names were marked with a
chiseled asterisk referring to a foot-note which pronounced them "dead." Four deaths were so recorded; then
the sculptured enrollment was discontinued. Written still among the living there remain four names, of those
who have been long dead, while the name of one born after the monument was erected, and survivor of all the
others, was never included in the memorial.
Near the orientated tombs of the Starrs the grave of an infant who died in 1794 bears this epitaph:
Sleep on sweet babe; injoy thy rest:

God call'd the soon, he saw it best.
A more severe view of the Deity appears upon a gravestone six rows east of this, commemorating James and
Tamson Eaton, who died in 1846. Tamson was fifteen years old, and, as the verse reveals, was a girl:
This youth cut down in all her bloom,

Sent by her God to an early doom
Tamson's brother James was killed by lightning [Pg 331]a few months later, and the event is thus versified:
What voice is that? 'Tis God,

He speaketh from the clouds;
In thunder is concealed the rod
That smites him to the ground.
Near the driveway and toward the church is the tombstone of Mary Olendorf, which bears these feeling lines:
Tread softly o'er this sacred mound

For Mary lies beneath this ground
May garlands deck and myrtles rise
To guard the Tomb where Mary lies.
A short distance eastward from the centre of the churchyard, and nearly abreast of the obelisk commemorating
Father Nash, stands somewhat apart the rugged tombstone of Scipio, an old slave. Aside from the graves of
Fenimore Cooper and his father, the founder of the village, not forgetting the grave of Jenny York,[117]
which is the joy of the churchyard, no tomb in the enclosure receives more attention from strangers than that
of Scipio, with its quaint verses descriptive of the aged slave.
North of this stone, after passing three intervening tombs, one comes upon an odd inscription [Pg 332]that
marks the grave of a fourteen-year-old boy, who was drowned December 3, 1810:
Thus were Parents bereavd

of a dutiful son and community
of a promising youth, while
pursuing with assiduity the
act of industry.
What this act of industry was that cost the life of young Garrett Bissell is not related.

A number of those buried in Christ churchyard died violent deaths; one was murdered, and another was
hanged, but that story has been already told.
"Joe Tom," a negro whose tomb fronts the east end of the churchyard, where the members of his race were
buried apart from the whites, was for more than a score of years sexton of Christ Church, and when he died, in
1881, had been for a half a century a unique figure in the life of the village. "Joe Tom" was always the general
factotum at public entertainments, and had won a title as "the politest negro in the world." Music of a lively
sort he scraped from the fiddle or beat upon the triangle. He was head usher at meetings, chief cook at picnics,
a stentorian prompter at dances, and chief oar at lake excursions.
On one occasion there was to be a burial in the churchyard in the afternoon, for which Joe had made no
preparation before escorting a picnic party to Three-Mile Point in the morning. Suddenly he remembered the
funeral. Seizing a boat [Pg 333]he rowed hastily back to the village, commenced digging the grave, tolled the
bell, and, while the funeral service was being held in the church, completed his task, standing ready with
solemn visage to perform the final duty of casting the earth upon the coffin. He then went back to the Point,
and finished the day by escorting his party home. Not infrequently his day's work was protracted far into the
night. If there was a midnight country dance the tinkle of his triangle could be heard until near sunrise, and
often he was seen returning by daylight from some nocturnal festivity, fast asleep in a farmer's wagon.[118]
If his versatile life rendered him somewhat uncertain at times in the discharge of his duties as sexton of Christ
Church, he never failed to disarm criticism by his plausible and polite excuses. In his day the bell rope was
operated from the vestibule of the church, and Joe Tom, arrayed in Sunday finery, was a familiar figure to
church-goers, as he stood in the church porch tolling the bell with measured stroke, and inclining his woolly
head with each motion to the entrance of every worshipper.
Joe was born in slavery in the island of Barbadoes, and was brought, when quite young, to Cooperstown, by
Joseph D. Husbands. Few persons in his day were better known than Joe Tom, yet, in his latter years, ill
health withdrew him from public notice, and at his funeral he was laid away in the churchyard, unsung, if not
unwept. [Pg 334]A contemporary expressed a hope that the dead can have no knowledge of their own
obsequies, for "poor Joe, who was the very soul of music, would hardly have been satisfied with a service in
which not a key was struck, or note raised for one who had so often tuned his harp for others."
The Cooper Plot, Christ Churchyard

Within the Cooper enclosure in Christ churchyard, the grave of Susan Fenimore Cooper attracts the attention
of all who are familiar with local history. A daughter of the novelist, Miss Cooper's memory is revered in
Cooperstown for qualities all her own. After her father's death her home was at Byberry Cottage. She gained
more than local fame, in her time, as a graceful writer, and was distinguished for her knowledge [Pg 335]of
the birds and flowers of Otsego hills. But her life-work was given to the Orphan House of the Holy Saviour,
which she established in 1870, where homeless and destitute children were cared for and educated, and where
now, on the broader basis of the Susan Fenimore Cooper Foundation, unusual opportunities for vocational
training are extended to boys and girls. Nor shall it be forgotten that, while others gave more largely of funds,
the Thanksgiving Hospital, founded in gratitude for the close of the Civil War, originated in Miss Cooper's
heart and mind.
A memorial window in Christ Church idealizes in form and color the spirit of this noble woman, without
attempting portraiture. A real likeness of Miss Cooper, as she appeared in her ripest years, would recall a
sweet face framed in dangling curls, a manner somewhat prim, but always gentle and placid, a figure slight
and spare, with a bonnet and Paisley shawl that are all but essential to the resemblance. She would best be
represented in the midst of orphan children whom she catechises for the benefit of some visiting dignitary,
while the little rascals, taking advantage of her growing deafness, titter forth the most palpable absurdities in
reply, sure of her benignant smile and commendatory "Very good; very good indeed!"

J. B. Slote
A Funeral in Christ Churchyard
One of Miss Cooper's most devoted helpers in the early days of the Orphan House was Dr. Wilson T. Bassett,
who for many years gave his professional services without charge, and greatly interested himself in the
welfare of the children. [Pg 336]Dr. Bassett was for a long time the most widely known physician and surgeon
of the region, while his wife, who followed the same profession, was the pioneer woman physician of Otsego
county, and did much to allay the popular prejudice against women in the field of medicine. Dr. Wilson
Bassett became noted as an expert witness in medical cases that were carried to court, and in murder trials
when insanity had been set up as a defence. The resourcefulness which he displayed on such occasions led to
his being described as "the most accomplished witness that has ever been placed upon the stand in Otsego
county." Dr. Bassett's personal appearance marked him as belonging to the old school. He was the last man in
Cooperstown to wear a black stock about his collar. His face suggested both firmness and a sense of humor.
The quality of decision appeared in the mouth which the smooth-shaven upper lip displayed above the white
chin-whisker, while the tousled shock of white hair and twinkling blue eyes were indicative of the whimsical
turn of mind that manifested itself in witty and sententious sayings. His long experience in the court-room
made him alive to the vast expense which the trial and punishment of criminals imposes upon the State, and
led to his belief that criminality is usually to be attributed to lack of proper training in youth. His favorite plea
for the support of the children in Miss Cooper's orphanage was "It's cheaper to educate 'em than to hang 'em!"
The daughter of the two physicians, Dr. Mary Imogene Bassett, inherited the [Pg 337]talent of both parents,
and later enjoyed the singular distinction, while still in active practice, of having a monument erected to
commemorate her professional career, when, in 1917, Edward Severin Clark began to build the Mary Imogene
Bassett Hospital and Pathological Laboratory, merging with it the traditions of the older Thanksgiving
Hospital.
Christ churchyard has been the scene of many impressive funerals, when, as in olden times, the unity of
design in the order for Burial has been carried out, so that the outdoor function appears [Pg 338]as a natural
sequence to the service of the sanctuary, and is connected with it by an orderly processional from the church
to the churchyard. Here, in the glory of summer foliage, is a superb setting for such a service; and the rare
occasions of interments within this quaint God's acre are long remembered by those who witness them. After
the service in the church the procession of choir and clergy, headed by the crucifer, issues from the doorway,
followed by stalwart men carrying the bier upon their shoulders. The mourners and congregation come
reverently after, and with the thrilling chorus of some hymn of triumph over death the procession moves
slowly to the grave. The sunshine sifts through the foliage of the over-arching trees, glitters upon the
processional cross, gleams upon the white robes of the choristers, and transforms into a mantle of glory the
pall that drapes the body of the dead. A solemn hush falls upon the company as the priest steps forward for the
formal act of burial. The dust flashes in the sunbeams as it falls from his hand into the open grave, while the
rhythmic phrases of the committal float once again over the consecrated ground. No words in the English
tongue have vibrated more deeply in human hearts than the majestic and exultant avowal of faith with which
the Church consigns to the grave the bodies of her dead.
FOOTNOTES:
[117] See p. 306.
[118] A Few Omitted Leaves, G. P. Keese.
[Pg 339]

CHAPTER XVII
FROM APPLE HILL TO FERNLEIGH

Cooperstown had its representation in the Civil War, for, aside from the soldiers who enlisted from the
village, it was a former schoolboy of Apple Hill, Captain Abner Doubleday, in command of the batteries at
Fort Sumter, who aimed the first big gun fired in defence of the Union. Another officer from Cooperstown,
Lieut. Marmaduke Cooper, died at Fortress Monroe; a third, Lieut. Morris Foote, was taken prisoner, and
escaped, with thrilling experiences, from a detention camp in South Carolina; while his brother, Lieut. Frank
Foote, lost a leg in the battle of the Wilderness, for three months was mourned as dead by his family, and had
the pleasure, on his return to Cooperstown, of reading his own obituary.
Among the citizens who stayed at home during the war were some who did much to stir up Union sentiment
in Cooperstown, where the political opinions of not a few had taken the form of opposition to the Northern
cause. Among these enthusiasts was John Worthington, who was cashier in the bank established by his father,
John R. Worthington, in a building which stood on the [Pg 340]north side of Main Street not far west of Fair
Street. There were then two divisions of the Democratic party, known as "War Democrats" and "Peace
Democrats." The motto of the latter, as applied to the Southern States, was "Erring sisters, go in peace." This
was too much for Worthington, who caused a large banner to be stretched across the entire front of the
Worthington Bank, surmounted by the Stars and Stripes, and the words, "Victory will bring Peace."
Worthington had a strong spirit of adventure in his composition, and, just before the war, had astonished the
village by one of his characteristic exploits. In July a traveling aeronaut had appeared on the Fair Grounds,
which were then in the region of the village south of Christ Church, proposing to make a series of flights for
the entertainment of the public. He had an enormous balloon which was floated by being filled with heated air
and smoke. The first ascension was a great success, and the aeronaut landed safely beyond the top of Mount
Vision. When the next flight was to be made, just as the inflation was completed, John Worthington stepped
out of the crowd, and asked to take the place of the aeronaut, who readily consented. There was a southerly
breeze, and the balloon, as it sailed over the village, barely escaped the top of Christ Church spire. It then rose
straight upward and, as the air within it cooled, began rapidly to descend. By a strange coincidence the
balloon dropped in the main street, within a short distance of the Worthington Bank, at the very [Pg
341]moment when its proprietor was descending the steps. The street was agog at the sudden appearance of
the balloon, but none was more amazed than the elder Worthington when he saw his own son extricating
himself from the folds of smoking cloth.
"John," he called out in astonishment, "Did you go up in that balloon?"
"I came down in it," said John, and would admit no more.
John Worthington was many years afterward included as a belated member of the Shakespeare Reading Club,
an organization which began in 1877, and held regular meetings, with reading of the plays and of original
papers by the members, during a period of thirty years. This organization, with the Cooperstown Literary
Association, kept up the intellectual traditions of the village during the latter part of the nineteenth century.
The Shakespeare Club included the choice minds of the town, and the study of the master poet was
undertaken with becoming reverence. While Worthington's sisters were already members of the club, and
Worthington himself was second to none in the village in keenness of literary appreciation, he was notorious
for eccentricities of whimsical wit and humor, and it was only after long deliberation that it was finally
decided to elect him to membership. His first appearance at a meeting of the club gave rise to an unforeseen
situation, for the order in which the members sat about the table had become fixed by traditions of precedence,
CHAPTER XVII 169

and the attempt to place another [Pg 342]chair caused a flutter of debate in politely subdued voices.
Worthington was kept standing while this discussion was going on, and suddenly astounded the company by
gravely seating himself upon the floor.
John Worthington was appointed United States consul in Malta under President Arthur, and continued in
office under Cleveland's first administration. This was the heyday of his life. In Malta he made friends in the
army and navy and diplomatic service of many nations. His conversational gifts and capricious drollery gave
him great social popularity in the brilliant shifting throng that passed through the gates of the Mediterranean,
and his wife, who was Cora Lull, of New Berlin, was charmingly adapted by nature and acquirements to the
graces of diplomatic life. During his term of service at Malta in 1883 Worthington was instrumental in
removing the body of John Howard Payne, author of "Home, Sweet Home," from the cemetery in Carthage,
Tunis, to the United States. He made a stubborn effort to procure a band to play Payne's song as the remains
left Tunis aboard the ship homeward bound, but not anyone could play "Home, Sweet Home," although
Worthington had brought the notes with him. However, after the disinterment, of which Worthington was a
witness, the body was placed in the chapel of the little English church, and a few Americans and English
reverently gathered there, while Mrs. Worthington, who was known as "Cooperstown's sweetest singer," sang
touchingly the famous song of home, written by [Pg 343]the man who had no home during the last forty years
of his life, and whose body, thirty years after his death, was going home at last to be interred in its native soil.
While traveling in Egypt, Worthington had an audience with the Khedive, Tewfik Pasha Mohammed, in his
palace on the Nile. The conversation was formal and perfunctory, until, in reply to an amiable inquiry,
Worthington stated that his home was in a village, in New York State, named Cooperstown. At the mention of
this name the Khedive exhibited genuine interest.
"Cooperstown," he repeated, "Is not Cooperstown the home of Fenimore Cooper, the great author?"
It was now Worthington's turn to exhibit interest, for in boyhood he had been next door neighbor to Cooper;
and he asked if his Highness was acquainted with the writings of the novelist. The Khedive had read all of
Cooper's books. Some of them he cared little for, but those he did care for he loved. The Leather-Stocking
Tales had opened a new world to him, and he was charmed. The Deerslayer he "adored." The sublime and
shadowy forests, the silent lakes high up in evergreen hills, the cool rivers—how they captivated his
imagination! how they invited his soul! He would, he exclaimed, give a year of his life if he might view the
Glimmerglass, if he might tread a forest trail. In his library the Khedive showed to his visitor, with evident
satisfaction, his three magnificent sets of Cooper's works, in French, in German, and in English.
[Pg 344]
John Worthington's later days were passed in Cooperstown, where he lived to be the village man of letters,
delighting his contemporaries with contributions of picturesque prose and graceful verse that would have
given him a wider renown had he written otherwise than, as it seemed, for the mere pleasure of writing for the
entertainment of his friends. His twelve years of service at Malta, with many excursions in the ancient world,
developed in him an oriental color of mind, and gave even to the Otsego of his childhood, when he returned
hither to live, the dreamy glamour of the mystic East. At home he lived altogether among books, and in the
companionship of poetic imagination passed the years of almost exile from Malta, his fondest retrospect. A
winning soul was John Worthington, widely beloved for what he was, and mourned for all that he might have
been.
During the Civil War a girl of extraordinary beauty and vivacity, skilled as a musician, drew many suitors to
her home, the house which still stands at the southwest corner of Pioneer and Elm streets. Her name was
Elizabeth Davis, and her happy disposition made her a universal favorite in the community. Toward the close
of the war she suffered a disappointment in love, the exact nature of which was not made known, but so
FROM APPLE HILL TO FERNLEIGH 170

seriously affecting her attitude toward life that she registered a solemn vow never again to be seen in public.
From this time forth she kept to the house, although it was said that she sometimes walked about at night.
Years passed. [Pg 345]Father, mother, brother, and sister, followed one another to the grave, until Elizabeth
Davis became the only inhabitant of the old house. Nobody ever saw her except a negro who brought her
supplies. In the village there grew up a new generation to which she was a stranger. The windows of the house
showed an abundance of the choicest plants, always carefully tended. Passers-by often arrested their steps to
listen to the sound of a piano splendidly played within. But nobody ever caught a glimpse of a face or form.
The most that the nearest neighbors saw was a hand and arm that were stretched forth from the windows every
evening to close the blinds. Thus Elizabeth Davis lived for more than thirty years after the close of the war,
and carried her secret to the grave.
In the time of the Civil War the favorite reading matter of the soldiers in camp and hospital throughout the
northern armies was supplied by the enterprise of Erastus F. Beadle, who had learned the publishing business
in the employment of the Phinneys in Cooperstown, himself being a native of Pierstown, just over the hill. He
became known throughout the United States as the publisher of "Beadle's Dime Novels," and on his
retirement from business in 1889 purchased "Glimmerview," the residence which overlooks the lake next east
of the O-te-sa-ga. Here he died in 1894. This inventor of the "dime novel" made an amazing success of
publishing paper-covered books adapted to the popular taste on a scale of cheapness and in quantities which
had never [Pg 346]before been dreamed of. After leaving Cooperstown, he began business for himself in
Buffalo, publishing magazines, and on his removal to New York, in 1858, discovered, in the publication of
"The Dime Song Book," the field which he afterward made so profitable. To the song books were added, in
rapid succession, the "Household Manual," the "Letter Writer," and the "Book of Etiquette." In the summer of
1860 the Dime Novels were started. These little salmon-covered books became immediately popular all over
the country, and the business grew to vast proportions, until Beadle had about twenty-five writers employed in
the composition of stories for his imprint. The business was afterward expanded to include the publication of
popular "Libraries,"—the Dime Library, the Boy's Library, the Pocket Library, and the Half-Dime
Library. After his retirement from business, as a resident of Cooperstown, Beadle did much for the
development of the village.
Main Street
Looking west from Fair Street, 1861. The Clark Gymnasium displaces the two buildings at the left.

The village had troubles of its own during the progress of the war. In the spring of 1862, a disastrous fire, the
largest conflagration in the history of Cooperstown, destroyed at least a third of the business district. The fire
started near the Cory stone building, which alone survived of the stores and shops in the path of the flames
that spread on the north side of Main Street, and extended from the building next to the present Mohican Club
as far east as Pioneer Street. The fire then crossed to the south side of Main Street, destroying the old Eagle
Tavern, originally the Red [Pg 347]Lion, and burning westward as far as the present Carr's Hotel. Up Pioneer
Street, on the west side the flames ate their way as far south as the Phinney residence. The buildings at the
eastern corners of Main and Pioneer streets were several times on fire, and were saved only by supreme
efforts of the village firemen. The survival of the Cory building was due in part to its solid stone construction,
but chiefly to the efforts of two plucky men, David P. House and George Newell, who stationed themselves
on the roof, and while the fire worked its way around the rear of the building, succeeded in defending their
position, [Pg 348]although so terribly scorched that for weeks afterward they went about swathed in bandages.
A few nights later the Otsego Hotel and adjacent buildings, which stood on the site of the present Village
Library, were also destroyed by fire. At this conflagration, which seemed about to complete the destruction of
Main Street, a woman appeared, who equalled the courage of the firemen in her defiance of the flames. She
was Susan Hewes, a maiden lady who kept a milliner's shop in the little one-story building that stands on the
north side of the Main Street, a short distance west of the corner of Fair Street. Emulating the example of the
men who saved the Cory building, she appeared on the roof of her little shop, and presented a dramatic
spectacle as she stood forth in the glare of the flames, crying out that she would save her property at the cost
of her life. Fortunately the flames were checked without any such sacrifice, and Susan Hewes lived to
become, more than half a century afterward, the oldest native inhabitant of the village, famous for the
old-fashioned tangled garden on Pine Street, where she dwelt so long among her favorite flowers. During the
Civil War period she was a marked figure in the village, for her outspoken independence in expressing
sympathy for the Southern cause led to a visit of remonstrance with which a committee of leading citizens
honored her in her little milliner's shop; while her refusal to submit to the dictates of fashion when the huge
hoop-skirts came into vogue caused her to be gazed upon as a marvel of incompleteness in dress.
[Pg 349]
For a time Cooperstown was much depressed by the ruin which fire had wrought in the village, but, before
long, a new business section began slowly to rise from the ashes of the old. West of Pioneer Street, where the
Eagle Tavern had narrowed the width of the main thoroughfare to the dimensions of a mere lane, the street
was now made of uniform width, and new business blocks were erected. By the close of the Civil War all
signs of destruction had disappeared, and the Main street of Cooperstown, if far less picturesque than before,
had assumed the appearance of brand new prosperity.
This period, in fact, marks the beginning of a gradual change in the character of Cooperstown, by which an
elderly village, typical in its inherited traditions, has taken on the airs of a summer resort, and has become the
residence, for a part of each year, of wealthy families whose chief interests lie elsewhere, and to whom Otsego
is a playground. While much of the older character of the village remains, the contact with the outer world has
had a far-reaching effect upon its inhabitants.
Some of the old-fashioned merchants were at first inclined to resent the demands made by city folk in excess
of the time-honored customs of trade in Cooperstown. Seth Doubleday kept a store at the northwest corner of
Main and Pioneer streets. One day a lady from the city came in airily, ordered a mackerel delivered at her
summer home in the village, and was out again before Doubleday could recover his breath. At [Pg 350]that
period all villagers went to market with a basket, and carried their own goods home. Nobody thought of
having purchases delivered by the merchant. Doubleday was enraged at what seemed to him an insolent
demand, and the longer he reflected on the matter the more furious did he become. At last, leaving his shop
unattended, he went in person to the customer's house to deliver the mackerel. The lady herself opened the

door. Doubleday took the fish by the tail, and slapped it down vigorously upon the doorstep, exclaiming,
"There, madam, is your damned three-cent mackerel, and delivered!"
The new phase of village life may perhaps be dated from the purchase of the Apple Hill property by Edward
Clark of New York, who, in 1856, made his summer home here, and after the close of the Civil War erected
his mansion. The establishment of this country-seat was but the beginning of the extension of Edward Clark's
estate in this region, and created a relationship to the village which his descendants have ever since continued.
"Apple Hill," as the place was called before Edward Clark's purchase, or "Fernleigh," as he renamed it, is thus
a connecting link between the old and the new in Cooperstown. It has a story that brings the elder traditions of
the village into touch with the newer spirit of modern enterprise.
Apple Hill was originally the property of Richard Fenimore Cooper, eldest son of the founder of the village.
In the summer of 1800 he built the house which stood until displaced by [Pg 351]Fernleigh House in 1869.
Fenimore Cooper described the site as "much the best within the limits of the village," no doubt with
reference to the superb view of the Susquehanna which the veranda at the rear of the house commands.
Richard Cooper planted the black walnut and locust trees, some of which are yet standing in front of the house
at Fernleigh. To the home at Apple Hill he brought from the head of the lake as a bride, Anne Cary, who after
his death became the wife of George Clarke of Hyde Hall.
From 1825 to 1828 Apple Hill was the residence of the afterward distinguished Judge Samuel Nelson, and
during the next five years was owned and occupied by General John A. Dix, who had resigned from the army,
and settled down in Cooperstown to practise law. His first cases were prepared in a little office that stood near
the gate of the Apple Hill property. At that time it is said that he made a poor impression as a public speaker,
and gave small promise of his later fame. In 1833 he became secretary of state of New York, and afterward
was United States Senator. During the Civil War he raised seventeen regiments, and as Secretary of the
Treasury at the outbreak of the war issued the famous order which first convinced the country that the
executive government at Washington was really determined to meet force with force: "If anyone attempts to
pull down the American flag, shoot him on the spot!" After the war General Dix was minister to France, and
in 1872 was elected Governor of the State of New York. [Pg 352]Among the children of General Dix who
played hide-and-seek amid the trees of Apple Hill was Morgan Dix, afterward the distinguished rector of
Trinity parish, New York, who in later years passed many summers in Cooperstown. It was remembered of
Dr. Dix's childhood that when his mother sent him away from Cooperstown to school, being apprehensive of
his safe conduct on the journey, she put him into the stage-coach completely enveloped in a green baize bag
that she had made for the purpose, with nothing but the boy's head emerging from the opening which was
snugly tied around his neck. Dr. Dix's last visit to Cooperstown was in 1891 when he was a guest at the
Cooper House, and was driven forth, with two hundred and fifty other guests, by the fire which burned it to
the ground in the early dawn of the eighth of August. This summer hotel stood within the grounds occupied
by the Present High School. Its burning was a calamity to Cooperstown, for under the management of Simeon
E. Crittenden it had become widely famous, and drew guests from every part of the country.
From 1833 to 1839 Apple Hill was the home of Levi C. Turner, who married the daughter of Robert
Campbell, and afterward was for some years county judge. During the Civil War Turner was Judge Advocate
in the War Department under President Lincoln, concerning whom he had many intimate reminiscences.
In early days, before the common school system was developed, there were many attempts [Pg 353]to
establish private schools in Cooperstown, with more or less success. John Burroughs, the famous naturalist,
received the last of his schooling in the spring and summer of 1856 at the Cooperstown Seminary, afterward
converted into the summer hotel known as the Cooper House.

But of all the private schools in the village the most noted was established at Apple Hill in 1839 by William
H. Duff, a former officer of the British Army, and a graduate of Trinity College, Dublin. Duff had a romantic
history, involved in a good deal of mystery. He had emigrated from England to Canada, bringing with him a
beautiful young wife,—an elopement, it was said. Mrs. Duff was evidently of gentle birth, while her
husband was of commanding presence, military bearing, and captivating manners. Whether he was entitled to
the rank of Major, which he assumed, was always doubted.
Duff was well informed in all branches of army tactics, and the school that he established was well known as
a military academy. The institution became popular, and the boys in their uniforms gave a new and welcome
touch of color to the life of the village. The afternoon drills were witnessed by many spectators, and when the
school increased until a mounted field-piece, drawn by four horses, was added to the equipment, the exhibit
became quite sensational. Few pupils of that day could ever forget the winter drills on the frozen lake, with
the thermometer near zero, as requiring an endurance worthy of hardier veterans.
[Pg 354]
One incident connected with the school made a sensation at the time. During the winter of 1840 a strong party
of Indians found their way to the village, and remained for several days. One of them got into a drunken bout,
and died quite suddenly. Shortly after the departure of the band the rumor was circulated among the loungers
in the streets that the friends of the dead Indian suspected foul play, and were coming from their encampment
on the following night to wreak vengeance upon the village. These flying rumors came to the ears of some of
the pupils of Duff's Academy, who hastened to communicate the alarming intelligence to their principal.
Whether Duff really accepted the truth of the reports, or wished to test the military efficiency and courage of
his pupils, he promptly called his troops together, delivered an impressive harangue on the danger of the
situation and the glory to be won by rallying to the defence of the village against a savage foe. Plans were
soon made to repel the attack. Muskets were made ready for service. Some boys were sent into the village for
powder, others for lead from which they were soon actively engaged in moulding bullets. A detachment was
sent to remove to the house all effects from the schoolroom which stood near the gate, and the doors and
windows of the house were strongly barricaded. Preparations were made to patrol the village at night, and the
school was detailed into squads, who were to protect the principal streets. Sentries paced from the house to the
gate, and from Christ churchyard [Pg 355]to the corner of Main Street, while outposts were stationed across
the river who were to give warning of the enemy's approach by the discharge of a musket. The younger boys
were left at home on guard at the doors and windows of the house. As the midnight hour approached Major
Duff sallied forth and inspected the disposal of his forces. During the long winter darkness of that night the
boys marched up and down the village streets, with imaginations so fearfully wrought up as to deny the need
of sleep which lay heavy upon them. If any of the inhabitants of the village sympathized in this watchfulness
in their behalf, or kept awake to see what was going on, there was no evidence of it. The boys were left to
their vigil. They passed the night in anxious watching. No Indians appeared, and all danger was dispelled by
the rays of the rising sun.
Too much prosperity was the ruin of Duff's school. It became so successful that the principal neglected duty
for pleasure, leaving the school in charge of subordinates. Then, in less than five years from its beginning, it
failed. At the outbreak of the Mexican War, Duff obtained a captain's commission in the United States Army,
and when last seen by his old friends he presented an imposing appearance as he rode down Broadway in New
York at the head of his company, with martial music and flying colors, to embark for Vera Cruz.[119]
[Pg 356]
George A. Starkweather purchased Apple Hill in 1847, and lived there until he sold it in 1856 to Edward
Clark. The latter had been attracted to Cooperstown as at one time the home of his distinguished father-in-law,
and law-partner, Ambrose L. Jordan. Mrs. Clark, who was Jordan's eldest child, was born while the Jordans

were resident in Cooperstown in the house which still stands at the northwest corner of Main and Chestnut
streets, and after they removed to Hudson the daughter was sent back to Cooperstown to attend the boarding
school which was conducted for a time in Isaac Cooper's old house at Edgewater. It was through these
associations that Edward Clark and his bride, after their marriage in 1836, began to be frequent visitors in
Cooperstown.
In the year 1848 Isaac M. Singer had become a client of Jordan & Clark in New York City. He was an erratic
genius, and had taken up various occupations without much success, besides having invented valuable
mechanical devices which had brought him no profit. The form of sewing-machine that he invented, and
which has ever since been associated with his name, was not profitable at first, and under Singer's
management the title to the invention became involved, and was likely to be lost. In this emergency the
inventor applied to his legal adviser, Clark, to advance the means to redeem an interest of one-third in the
sewing-machine invention and business, and to hold that share as security for money advanced. Afterward
was formed the co-partnership of I. [Pg 357]M. Singer & Co., in which Clark was the legal adviser and half
owner. The business was carried on by this firm with great success from 1851 to 1863, during which period
Edward Clark established his residence in Cooperstown. After Singer's death Clark became president of the
Singer Manufacturing Company.

Fernleigh
Edward Clark spent many winters in Europe, residing at different times in Paris and in Rome, but his
summers were usually devoted to Cooperstown, and the present stone house at Fernleigh was his summer
home for twenty-three years. When this house was erected it was regarded as a wonder. It took four years in
building, and [Pg 358]was indeed of remarkable workmanship, with substantial masonry and the most
exquisite elaborations of woodwork. But it had the misfortune to be built in the "black walnut period," when
taste in domestic architecture was at a low ebb, so that much of the interior, and some of the exterior, has
since been altered. The stone building southwest of the house was built as a Turkish bath.
In 1873, Edward Clark purchased Fernleigh-Over from the Bowers estate, and from time to time added to his
property in Cooperstown, notably in the purchase of farms on either side of the lake. He became much
identified with the interests of the village, and built the Hotel Fenimore.
Edward Clark was entranced by Otsego Lake, upon which he spent much time in sailing. His Nina and Elise
were beautiful sailing yachts, and would have been an ornament to any waters. Clark was described by village
contemporaries as a man of somewhat peculiar temperament. He was naturally reticent, and seemed to be
most highly appreciated by his intimates. In educational matters he was greatly interested, having given
largely to Williams College, of which he was a graduate and Doctor of Laws. He contributed generously to
the welfare of the schools of Cooperstown, in which he established the Clark Punctuality prizes. In
Cooperstown, and elsewhere, he did much charitable work in a quiet way.

M. Antoinette Abrams
Kingfisher Tower
In 1876 Kingfisher Tower was completed, [Pg 359]which Edward Clark had caused to be erected at Point
Judith, about two miles from Cooperstown, on the eastern shore of Otsego Lake. It was said that Clark's
motive in building the tower was to furnish work for many in the community who were out of employment.
Scoffers referred to the building derisively as "Clark's folly." At the request of a village newspaper, Clark
himself wrote an account of it which was published anonymously.
"Kingfisher Tower," he wrote, "consists of a [Pg 360]miniature castle, after the style of the eleventh and
twelfth centuries, standing upon the extremity of the Point and rising out of the water to a height of nearly
sixty feet. It forms an objective point in the scene presented by the lake and surrounding hills; it adds
solemnity to the landscape, seeming to stand guard over the vicinity, while it gives a character of antiquity to
the lake, a charm by which we cannot help being impressed in such scenes. The effect of the structure is that
of a picture from medieval times, and its value to the lake is very great. Mr. Clark has been led to erect it
simply by a desire to beautify the lake and add an attraction which must be seen by all who traverse the lake

or drive along its shores. They whose minds can rise above simple notions of utility to an appreciation of art
joined to nature, will thank him for it."
When Edward Clark died, in 1882, his youngest and only surviving son, Alfred Corning Clark, much of
whose life had been spent abroad, inherited the greater part of his father's property, and became proprietor of
Fernleigh.
Alfred Corning Clark possessed in a magnified degree certain qualities which had distinguished his father. He
was more retiring, more reticent, more inclined to find the full joy of life only among intimates. He became a
patron of art and music, and himself an amateur in singing. He built Mendelssohn Hall, in New York, for the
use of a musical organization to which he belonged. Of books he was not only a lover, but a student, devoted
to the classics, and well versed [Pg 361]in modern languages. In the village of Cooperstown he was known as
a bookworm. He enjoyed walking about his own grounds, but hardly ever went into the village, and there
were many residents of Cooperstown who had never seen his face. The proprietor of the corner book store in
his day remarked that he had never but once seen Alfred Corning Clark in the village street, and this was
when he had an errand at the book store to make an inquiry concerning a newly published volume.
In the use of his great fortune Clark was extremely liberal in charities and toward such other objects as
commended themselves to his judgment; while he was correspondingly powerful in opposition to whatever
involved a principle with which he disagreed.
Mrs. Clark, who was Elizabeth Scriven, was a woman of exceptional gifts of mind and benignance of
character, well qualified to assume the responsibilities which fell upon her when Alfred Corning Clark died, at
the age of fifty-three years, in 1896. With cultivated tastes, she had also a practical talent for business, and,
although well served by agents in the management of her large interests, was always thoroughly informed and
full of initiative. In New York, among men of affairs, she was regarded as one of the most far-seeing judges of
real estate values in the city. In the management of her domestic and other concerns she had an extraordinary
faculty for administration, which failed of attaining genius only through the effort which she put forth to give
[Pg 362]personal attention to details. This amiable weakness nevertheless added the interest of her personality
to undertakings that might have failed for the lack of such a spirit as hers; and in her many charities the
personal touch which she took the trouble to give added infinitely to the happiness and self-respect of those to
whom her kindness, as in neighborly thoughtfulness, was extended.
In Cooperstown Mrs. Clark became an arbiter of the social and moral virtues, and the things that she frowned
upon were usually not done. She had a wholesome influence in resisting certain excesses which not seldom
appear in communities partly given over to the pursuit of pleasure. In some innovations against which she
protested, Mrs. Clark at last gracefully yielded to the inevitable. This was the case with automobiles, which,
when they first appeared upon the country roads, she regarded with the alarm and disgust of one devoted to a
carriage and horses, and would have banished them from Otsego if she had had the power. In that period of
transition few country roads were adapted to the use of motors, and to meet one of the new machines while
driving in a carriage along the lake shore was to suffer the apprehension of imminent death from the fury of
plunging horses, and to be nearly choked in a cloud of dust.
Mrs. Clark was fond of walking, and she was a familiar figure in the residence streets of the village in
summer, usually dressed in white, without a bonnet, and carrying a white parasol above [Pg 363]her head, as
she moved with quick step upon some errand.
The homestead at Fernleigh represents much that has contributed to the development of Cooperstown. The
greater part of the industry controlled by the Clark estates is managed from the offices of the Singer Building
in New York, which when it was erected in 1909 was the tallest office building in the world. But a large part
of the interests of the estates is centered in the picturesque old building, originally built for a bank, which

stands near the entrance of the Cooper Grounds in Cooperstown. The Cooper Grounds themselves were
rescued from a condition of desolation in which they had lain for many years after the death of Fenimore
Cooper, and are maintained by the Clark estates for the benefit of the public. The Village Club and Library
across the way is a creation of the Clark estates. On the hills east and west of the village, and along the eastern
shore of the lake for a stretch of nearly six miles, the same ownership has preserved for all lovers of nature the
noble forests that lend a charm of wildness to the region.
FOOTNOTES:
[119] A Few Omitted Leaves, Keese, p. 12; History of Cooperstown, Livermore, p. 46.
[Pg 364]
CHAPTER XVIII
THE LAKE OF ROMANCE AND FISHERMEN

The period from 1870 to 1880 was one of rapid growth and development in Cooperstown. The permanent
population increased to over two thousand souls, and a number of fine summer residences were erected.
Almost all of its natural advantages Cooperstown owes to Otsego Lake. These had been long appreciated by
residents of the village, and now began to be generally sought by visitors from afar. In summer, the shores of
the lake come to be dotted with the camp-houses and tents of those who sought relief from the swelter of cities
in the cool forests of Otsego, and found delight in the sailing and fishing for which the Glimmerglass is
famous.
CHAPTER XVIII 179

J. B. Slote
The Lake from the O-te-sa-ga
In the summer of 1870 Capt. Daniel B. Boden began regular steam navigation of Otsego Lake by means of a
small steamboat which he had brought to Cooperstown by railroad, and which had been used as a gunboat in
Southern waters during the Civil War. The boat was renamed the Mary Boden. In the following summer a
rival steamboat was launched, much larger than the former, called the Natty Bumppo, and owned principally
by A. H. Watkins and Elihu Phinney. [Pg 365]At the beginning of the next season the conservative folk of the
village were scandalized by the Mary Boden, which then commenced to make lake trips on Sunday, a breach
of ancient custom in which the owners of the Natty Bumppo indignantly declined to compete. On a night early
in July there was an alarm of fire, a great blaze at the lake front, and villagers running to the scene found that
one of the steamboats was in flames and beyond hope of salvage. A small child at a front window of
Edgewater, watching the fire, clapped her hands, and cried out, "It's the wicker [Pg 366][wicked] boat! It's the
wicker boat!" But it was not the wicked boat that was ablaze. It was the Natty Bumppo, which burned to the
water's edge a total loss, the boat that had never left its dock on Sunday. The event was long recalled by some
in the village as an instance of grave error in the usually correct dispensations of Providence. The Natty
Bumppo was replaced, in the next season, by a new steamboat bearing the same name. The new Natty Bumppo
and the old Mary Boden were the famous boats of the lake until they were succeeded by the Pioneer and the
THE LAKE OF ROMANCE AND FISHERMEN 180

Cyclone, and later by the Deerslayer, the Pathfinder, and the Mohican.
Aside from the use of canoes, the first general navigation of the lake was undertaken in 1794 by a man known
as Admiral Hassy, who in his day was the most celebrated fisherman of Otsego. He had a large flat boat which
he called the ship Jay, and upon which he used boards for sails. This craft was safe, but not speedy.
Some thirty years later a group of enterprising individuals built a horse-boat as a means of transporting lake
parties. The boat had at each end a high cabin topped by a platform. These excrescences caught whatever
breeze was blowing, and made the craft unmanageable. The struggles of the two poor horses who were
expected to propel the boat were not equal to a gale of Pierstown trade-winds. More than once a lake party
starting for Three-Mile Point, aboard this vessel, found itself stranded on the opposite shore.
During the first half of the century a "general [Pg 367]lake party" in the summer corresponded to the "select
ball" of each winter as constituting one of the two great social events of the year in Cooperstown. It ought to
be said that the term "lake party" had a distinct social significance, and the word "picnic," which came later to
be used to describe the same thing, meant to the elder inhabitants an affair that had quite lost the flavor of the
older custom, and the use of the word was regarded as one of the signs of social decadence.
The means of navigation most often used by the lake parties was a huge scow propelled by long oars. A
typical lake party was given in July of 1840, when Governor Seward visited Cooperstown. On the way home
upon the lake the old scow, according to custom, was stopped opposite to the Echo, and several persons tried
their voices to show off the wonderfully clear reverberations that would be flung back from the eastern
hillside. But the master of this art was "Joe Tom," the negro who had been chief cook of the lake party, and
was now at one of the long oars of the scow. On being asked to awaken the famous echo, Joe Tom shouted,
"Hurrah for Governor Steward!" and when the echo came back, "You've got it to a 't,' Joe!" exclaimed
Governor Seward.
At this period the authority in aquatic affairs, and the most renowned fisherman of the lake, was Commodore
Boden. Miss Cooper says of her father's novel Home as Found that the one character in it "avowedly and
minutely drawn from life" was that of the Commodore, "a figure [Pg 368]long familiar to those living on the
lake shores—a venerable figure, tall and upright, to be seen for some three score years moving to and
fro over the water, trolling for pickerel or angling for perch, almost any day in the year, excepting when the
waters were icebound in winter."[120] The commodore was of quite imposing appearance, handsome alike in
form and figure, straight as an arrow, and lithe as an Indian, with silvery locks that hung gracefully down
upon his shoulders. His method of fishing was fascinating to watch. Standing erect in his boat, the
commodore would paddle from the outlet of the lake to some inviting patch of weeds, and there, in quite
shallow water, noiselessly drop his anchor. Then, wielding a rod nearly twenty feet in length, he would "skip"
his tempting bait—generally the side of a small perch—with amazing vigor and marvellous
dexterity, oftentimes taking fifteen or twenty pickerel in less than an hour. To see him strike, manipulate and
land a fish weighing three or four pounds, his pliant rod bending nearly to a semicircle, was a spectacle not to
be forgotten.[121]
In 1850 Peter P. Cooper brought from the Lake Ontario a little schooner, and became so famous as a boatman
and fisherman that he was regarded as the successor of Admiral Hassy and Commodore Boden. Capt. Cooper
established a boat livery which included five sailboats and twenty rowboats. He developed the fisheries of [Pg
369]Otsego Lake on a big scale, having introduced the gill net as a means of catching bass. In the spring of
1851 there were taken from the lake 25,000 bass. The gill net which Capt. Cooper introduced is made of the
best kind of linen thread, with meshes from two to two and a half inches square. The net is about three feet
wide, having leads attached to one edge, and corks fastened to the other. The leaded edge is carried to the
bottom of the lake, while the other is buoyed up by the corks, making a complete fence across the lake at its
bottom, even where it is very deep. The fish swim against the fence, which at once yields to their force, but as

it yields, forms a sack whose meshes gather about their fins and tail, making it impossible to back out or
otherwise escape. Their efforts serve only to entangle the fish more deeply in the net. Elihu Phinney, the most
expert amateur fisherman of the period, denounced Capt. Cooper's gill net as the "most deadly and
abominable of all devices."
The Otsego bass never exceed about six pounds in weight, the average being much smaller. Occasionally a
lake trout of larger size is caught. With hook and line trout of great size are not often taken. On Friday, August
21, 1908, Alexander S. Phinney caught with hook and line, near Kingfisher Tower, a trout thirty-six inches
long and weighing twenty pounds. He tussled with this trout for an hour, with six hundred feet of line, before
he succeeded in landing him in the boat. In the next season the same fisherman caught a trout weighing
eighteen pounds. So far as [Pg 370]authentic records go, these two trout are the largest fish ever caught in the
lake with hook and line.
The conditions in Otsego Lake are favorable for the artificial propagation of fish, and many plantings have
been made, at first by private enterprise, and afterward by the State. The lake extends in a direction from N.
N. East to S. S. West about nine miles, varying in width from about three quarters of a mile to a mile and a
half. The surface of the lake is 1,194 feet above tide-water. The average depth is about fifty feet, although
about two miles north of the village soundings have been taken to a depth of one hundred and fifty feet, while
toward the midst of the lake the depths are greater. In many places the water deepens gradually from the
shore, but along the eastern bank there are points at which, Fenimore Cooper declared, "a large ship might
float with her yards in the forest." The lake is chiefly supplied from cold bottom springs. Its only constant
tributaries are two small streams, whose entire volume is not half that of its outlet, the Susquehanna River,
which here begins its long journey to Chesapeake Bay. The upper and lower portions of the lake, being
shallow and weedy, afford ample pickerel grounds, while the middle portion and whole eastern shore are
admirably adapted, by deep water and soft marl bottom, to the coregoni and salmon trout, and nearer shore, by
rocky bottom and sharp ledges, to the rock bass, black bass, and yellow perch. Large fish find an abundant
food supply in the "lake shiner," an exquisitely beautiful creature [Pg 371]and dainty morsel, about four
inches long.
The fish for which the lake has become famous among epicures is the "Otsego bass." In The Pioneers,
published in 1823, Fenimore Cooper expressed the general opinion when he put into the mouth of one of his
characters this eulogy of the Otsego bass: "These fish are of a quality and flavor that in other countries would
make them esteemed a luxury on the tables of princes. The world has no better fish than the bass of Otsego; it
unites the richness of the shad to the firmness of the salmon." More than sixty years later much the same
opinion prevailed, when Elihu Phinney described Otsego bass as "beyond all peradventure the very finest
fresh water fish that swims."
There has long been a difference of opinion as to whether the so-called Otsego bass is to be regarded as a
distinct species. Louis Agassiz, the highest authority of his time, after careful analysis pronounced the Otsego
bass to be "in its organic structure a distinct fish, not found in any other waters of the world." In 1915 Dr.
Tarleton H. Bean, the New York State fish culturist, declared that the so-called Otsego bass "is merely the
common Labrador whitefish which has become dwarfed in size by some peculiarities of its habitat." De Witt
Clinton, a former governor of New York, wrote the first scientific description, accompanied by a drawing, of
this fish, which he called "the Salmo Otsego, or the Otsego Basse."[122] [Pg 372] At the time when Clinton
wrote, the whitefishes were placed in the genus Salmo. In 1911, in the bulletin of the United States bureau of
fisheries,[123] Dr. Evermann asserted concerning Clinton's drawing of Otsego bass, which he had examined,
that "the cut, although crude, plainly shows Coregonus clupeaformis. The form is elliptical, and the back
shows the dark streaks along the rows of scales usually characteristic of that species." The same author, in
collaboration with Dr. Jordan,[124] says concerning the common whitefish: "This species, like others of wide
distribution, is subject to considerable variations, dependent upon food, waters, etc. One of these is the
so-called Otsego bass, var Otsego (Clinton), a form landlocked in Otsego Lake at the head of the Susquehanna

River."
There are Otsego fishermen who are not impressed by this array of learning, and still insist that the Otsego
bass is quite different from any other fish in the world. The Otsego Farmer in 1915 summed up the matter
thus: "Otsego bass is not what is ordinarily termed whitefish, but is probably a species of the same family. As
a matter of fact, Otsego Lake has been stocked with whitefish fry from the Great Lakes, and now the nets of
fishermen are always filled with a mixture of whitefish and Otsego bass. Whatever Dr. Bean may think about
it, any Otsego Lake fisherman can tell the difference, and any epicure having [Pg 373]once tasted Otsego bass
is never again deceived by whitefish."
A view which seems to reconcile these diverse opinions is that of Alexander S. Phinney, the most famous
amateur fisherman of Otsego at the beginning of the twentieth century. He holds that Otsego bass is quite
distinct from whitefish, but believes that the true Otsego bass has disappeared, giving place to a hybrid fish,
now called Otsego bass, but really a cross between that variety and the whitefish with which Otsego has been
stocked from the Great Lakes.
As many as five thousand Otsego bass have been taken with one draught of the seine, but in view of the great
difficulty of catching any with hook and line, the following suggestion from an old authority, Seth Green, is
still of interest: "The Otsego bass can be taken with small minnows or red angle worms. I think if your tackle
is very fine, and you do not twitch when they bite, they will swallow the bait. Put five or ten hooks
(O'Shaunessy 8's, forged) on a fine snell, and loop them five feet apart; with a small sinker at the end. Bait
some with small minnows (an inch or so in length) and some with worms. Cast out as far as you can from the
boat, and let it lie half or three quarters of an hour on the bottom, feeling now and then to see if you have one
on. The best way is to let them hook themselves. The angle worms, if used for bait, should be strung on to the
hook with both ends left dangling. A light stroke must be made and the fish handled very carefully."

Fishermen's Shanties on the Frozen Lake
[Pg 374]
Many fishermen are successful in taking Otsego bass with hook and line in winter, by fishing through the ice.
No sooner has the lake become frozen from shore to shore, usually after Christmas, than the whole surface
becomes dotted with the shanties of fishermen, which remain until the ice begins to weaken in the spring. The
typical fisherman's shanty on the ice-bound lake is about five by six feet in floor space, and six feet high. It
has a window, and the floor is so arranged that it can be raised to keep the fisherman above the water that
sometimes floods the surface of the ice. Holes are cut through the floor, and through the ice beneath, for the
admission of the fishing [Pg 375]lines. The shanty is warmed by a small stove, with its stove-pipe sticking out
through the roof. A chair and a coal box complete the furniture.
Two methods of fishing through the ice for Otsego bass are used by the occupants of the shanties. According
to one method the hook is dropped to the bottom of the lake, and the fish are attracted to its vicinity by bait
strewn on the bottom. The other method is used nearer shore, where the baited hook is let down part way
toward the bottom, to tempt the fish that move amid the grass and weeds.
There are others besides fishermen to whom the frozen surface of Otsego Lake offers the means of pleasure
and occupation. In some seasons the freezing of the lake occurs within a few hours, after a great and sudden
fall in temperature, during a night of calm and intense cold. At such times, before snow has fallen upon the
surface, the lake presents a scene of splendor. The ice is quite transparent, and has the effect of a great sheet of

glass spread out amid the hills. This offers a perfect surface for skating, and attracts not only the boys and
girls of the village, but a large number of their elders. The lake grows lively with the gracefully gliding
promenade of skaters, with here and there a group playing at hockey, while others disport themselves at
"crack the whip." The friction of so many gliding feet imparts to the frozen surface a low and weirdly
humming sound, and the droning note is echoed by the hills, until the valley resounds with monotonous
music. There [Pg 376]are times when the lake is so well frozen that skaters traverse the entire length. In some
seasons ice-boats have been used, slanting from end to end of the lake with prodigious speed. As the winter
advances and the ice grows stronger, driving upon the lake becomes common, and horse-races upon the ice
have sometimes been included among the winter sports.
At about five miles above the foot of the lake, and extending across it from shore to shore, a large fissure in
the ice usually appears during the winter. This fissure is sometimes so wide that a team cannot cross it, and
many years ago a span of horses was accidentally driven into it. The crevice in the ice has caused much
speculation. The lake is narrow at the place where the crack appears, and the fissure is supposed to be created
by expansion from the north and from the south, causing the ice to rise several feet in gable-like form until the
ridge cracks, for fragments of ice are found on each side of the crevice.[125]
The tremendous forces exerted by the expansion of the freezing lake cry aloud on still winter nights,
whenever, after a period of thawing weather, the mercury suddenly drops to a point far below zero. On such
nights, while the trees of the surrounding forest here and there begin to be so penetrated with the fierce cold
that they crack like rifle-shots, the ice-bound lake sets up an unearthly groaning, and the cavernous sound [Pg
377]of its bellowing echoes dismally over the sleeping village, like the trumpetings of some huge leviathan in
agony.
Cooperstown has a winter harvest-time, in January or February, when ice is cut from the lake for the summer
supply. This industry occupies a large force of men, with plows, saws, hooks, crowbars, horses and bob-sleds,
for several weeks. The ice taken from Otsego Lake, from ten to twenty inches thick, according to the severity
of the winter, is always pure as mountain dew, and clear as crystal.
The midsummer view of Otsego Lake at one time included, in the clearings along the western shore and
hillsides, a great luxuriance of hop-vines. The golden wreaths of hops, as they hang ripening in the August
sunshine, sweeping in graceful clusters from the tall poles, or swinging in the breeze in umbrella-like
canopies, add a more picturesque feature to the landscape than any other growing crop.
Hops have a part in the story of Cooperstown, which was at one time the centre of the most important
hop-growing industry in America. Hop culture was introduced into Otsego county about the year 1830. In
1845 only 168,605 pounds were produced. In 1885, within a radial distance of forty miles from Cooperstown
was included more than half of the hop-producing region of the United States.

Elizabeth Hudson
Hop Picking
The hop-picking season, during the latter part of August, has given a picturesque character of its own to the
life of the village and environs. In [Pg 378]the primitive days of the industry, when the harvesting of the crop
did not require any additional help from outside of the immediate region, the task of hop-picking was
lightened by the enjoyment of social pleasures and romantic excitements that came to be associated with it by
the young people of Otsego. At the beginning of the picking season, in those days, anyone passing through the
country would meet wagon after wagon, of the style known as a "democrat," loaded down with gay and lively
maidens, with one or two young men to each load. On reaching the hop-yard to which they were assigned,
these frolicsome parties exchanged their holiday attire for [Pg 379]broad-rimmed hats and working dresses.
Boxes were placed about the hop-yard, four pickers to each, the boxes being divided into four sections
holding ten bushels apiece, and into these were dropped the clusters picked from the vines by nimble fingers.
Experienced hands can fill two or more boxes in a day, for which as much as fifty cents a box used to be paid.
The midday lunch was taken beneath the shade of the nearest tree, or, in case the pickers were boarded by the
grower, all adjourned to the largest room in an out-building, where a rural feast was spread with no niggard
hand. Hop-pickers expect to live on the fat of the farmer's land, and as a rule they are not disappointed. Whole
sheep and beeves vanish like manna before the Israelites in the short three weeks of the picking season, while
gallons of coffee, firkins of butter, barrels of flour, and sugar by the hundred weight are swallowed up in the
capacious maw of the small army. The nightly hop-dance used to be an indispensable adjunct of the picking
season, much counted upon by the gay throng, but rather frowned upon, as an occasion of scandal, by staid

and proper seniors.


MAP OF OTSEGO LAKE
With the great increase in hop-production during the early 'eighties, the romance of hop-picking, on many
farms, gave place to a picturesque but undesirable invasion of vagabondage from the large cities. Some
farmers continued to choose their pickers from among the better sort of young men and maidens of the
neighborhood, but many large growers, requiring a great number of hands [Pg 380]for a short season, resorted
to the unemployed of neighboring cities, and the result was an annual immigration from Albany, Troy,
Binghamton, and other cities farther north, which taxed the capacity of the railways. Among these workers
many were honest and capable, but a large part of them were attracted by the prospect of three weeks of board
and lodging, with an amount of pay which, if small, was sufficient for a glorious spree. It became the custom
in Cooperstown to augment the village police force during the hop-picking season, for city thugs were likely
to be abroad, and when the pickers were paid off their revels were apt to become both obnoxious and
dangerous.
Hops will be seen growing in the summer along the shores and hillsides of Otsego Lake, so long as beer is
made; for, aside from the very limited amount required to leaven bread, and the comparatively small amount
used in druggists' preparations, there is no use for hops except in the making of beer. But never again will
there be in Otsego such luxuriance of hop-culture as that which developed in the 'eighties before the Pacific
coast learned to compete successfully with the hop-growers of New York State.
Hop-culture is a gamble which in Otsego county has made fortunes for some farmers and brought ruin to
others. The growth of the product is singularly at the mercy of freaks of weather, and its preparation for the
market is beset by many possibilities of failure. It is a crop of which it is most difficult to count the final cost,
or to predict[Pg 382]the market price. It has varied in price more than any other product of the soil. In 1878
the entire crop was marketed at from five to twelve cents a pound. But for many years every farmer in Otsego
remembered the season of 1882-83, when the average cost of producing a pound of hops was ten cents, and
hops were selling at a dollar a pound, so that, as was said at the time, "five pounds of hops could be
exchanged for a barrel of flour."[126] Many farmers made money at this time, but some held their hops for an
even higher price, and lost. One farmer held thousands of pounds of hops in his great barn, and kept buying in
the crops of other farmers, awaiting a price of $1.20, at which he had resolved to sell. Two years later the hops
were still in the barn, and nine-tenths of their value was lost. There were other tragedies of this sort, yet for
years afterward, while some continued to grow hops at a fair profit, many a farmer in the vicinity of
Cooperstown, lured by the hope of a dollar-a-pound season, was kept on the verge of poverty by his faith in
the golden vine.
Otsego Lake is chiefly famous as the scene of events in two of Cooper's Leather-Stocking Tales. There are
glimpses of it in The Pioneers, while in The Deerslayer the whole action revolves about this lake, which
throughout the story is called the "Glimmerglass." The scenes of incidents in these two tales are still pointed
out on Otsego Lake, and have become as much a part of its history as of its romance.

The Susquehanna, near its source
[Pg 383]
To begin with points described in The Deerslayer, the beehive-shaped rock where the youthful
Leather-Stocking had his rendezvous with Chingachgook is that now known as Council Rock, and still juts
above the water at the outlet of the lake, near the western shore of the Susquehanna's source. Here it was that
exactly at sunset, to keep his appointment with Leather-Stocking, the tall, handsome, and athletic young
Delaware Indian suddenly appeared in full war-paint, standing upon the rock, having escaped his lurking foes.
Not far from this point, at a short distance down the river, Deerslayer got his first glimpse of the beautiful
Judith Hutter, as she peered from the [Pg 384]window of the "ark," which had been moored beneath the
screening foliage of overhanging trees. It was through these waters, and through the outlet, soon afterward,
that Floating Tom Hutter and Hurry Harry, aided by Deerslayer, drew the ark back into the lake in the nick of
time to escape a band of hostile Iroquois.
On the western side of the lake, just beyond the O-te-sa-ga as one travels northward, the first little bay that
indents the shore, now called Blackbird Bay, and somewhat changed in shape and aspect by fillings of soil
and other improvements at the Country Club, is the "Rat's Cove," where Floating Tom Hutter was fond of
keeping his ark anchored behind the trees that covered the narrow strip of jutting land. Here it was, at the
beginning of the story, that Deerslayer and Hurry Harry sought Tom in vain, and on this margin of the lake the

buck appeared at which Hurry took the shot that awakened the echoes of the Glimmerglass. Adjacent to this
bay, in the midst of the stretch of land between the O-te-sa-ga and the Country Club house, was the Huron
camp in which Hutter and Hurry were captured by the redskins; and the quantities of arrowheads found here
in later times suggest that it actually was a favorite place of Indian encampment.


Arthur J. Telfer
Leatherstocking Falls
North of Blackbird Bay and the Country Club, and beyond Fenimore Farm, are Glimmerglen Cove and
Brookwood Point, where charming residences that overlook the lake add their own attractions to the names of
"Glimmerglen" and "Brookwood," by which they are known. The [Pg 385]stream that gushes into the lake
from Brookwood is the one in which Hetty Hutter made her ablutions, and from which she drank, while on
her lonely way southward to the Huron camp, in her simple-minded scheme for the rescue of her father and
Hurry Harry.
A short distance north of Brookwood there empties into the lake a stream which is worth tracing toward its
source as far as the hillside beyond the road that skirts the lake, for here the water comes tumbling down from
the height in the beautiful Leatherstocking Falls. A shady glen is here, a favorite resort of small picnic parties,
and while nothing of Cooper's romance has been added to the scene except the name, some interest may be
found in the traces of an old mill which once got its power from Leatherstocking Falls.
Some tense situations in the story of the Deerslayer are associated with Three-Mile Point, the present picnic
resort of Cooperstown; and a full understanding of the events described as having taken place on this spot
almost depends upon some reference to the actual conformation of the land. It was on the northern side of the
projecting point that Hetty had landed on the errand just referred to, setting her canoe adrift. Wah-ta-wah
promised to meet her Delaware lover, Chingachgook, at the same landing-place, on the next night, at the
moment when the planet Jupiter should top the pines of the eastern shore. Here came Chingachgook and
Deerslayer in their canoe, at the appointed time, to steal the maiden [Pg 386]from the Hurons, but found that
she could not keep the tryst. Around this point Deerslayer gently propelled his canoe southward until he
gained a view of the fire-lit camp, which the Hurons had moved from the region of Blackbird Bay to the
southern slope of Three-Mile Point. Back again to its northern side he paddled softly, and having joined
Chingachgook, they left the canoe on the beach near the point, and made their stealthy detour, approaching the
camp from the west, in the shadow of the trees, informing Wah-ta-wah of their presence by Chingachgook's
squirrel-signal. The spring that still bubbles for the refreshment of picnickers on the northern shore of the
Point was the one which Wah-ta-wah made a pretext to draw away from the camp the old squaw who guarded
her, and here Deerslayer throttled the vigilant hag, while Chingachgook and his Indian sweetheart raced for
the canoe. Here, when Deerslayer released his grip to follow them, the squaw alarmed the camp. Along the
stretch of beach he ran eastward to the place where the lovers were already in the canoe awaiting him, and
from this point Deerslayer pushed their canoe to safety, yielding himself to capture.

Five-Mile Point
It was at Five-Mile Point that the Hurons were afterward encamped when Deerslayer, whom they had released
on parole, returned at the appointed hour to redeem his plighted word. Back of Five-Mile Point is a
picturesque rocky gorge called Mohican Canyon, through which a brook ripples, with clumps of fern and rose
peeping[Pg 388]from the crevices of its rugged walls. Having fulfilled his pledge, Deerslayer soon ventured
the dash for liberty that so nearly succeeded; and, after making a circuit of the slope, it was along the ridge of
Mohican Canyon that he ran at top speed to try a plunge for the lake, with the whole band of Indians in
pursuit.
In the open area of Five-Mile Point, after his recapture, Deerslayer was bound to a tree, and became a target
for the hairbreadth marksmanship of Huron tomahawks, preliminary to being put to torture.
North of this spot, and along the shore, [Pg 389]Hutter's Point is of interest to the reader of the
Leather-Stocking Tales, for here is the path by which Deerslayer reached the lake at the beginning of his
romantic history, and gained his first view of the Glimmerglass. In the second chapter of the Deerslayer,
Cooper's famous description of the lake as it was when the first white man came, based upon his own
recollection of it when nine-tenths of its shores were in virgin forest, was conceived from the angle of Hutter's
Point.

M. Antoinette Abram
Mohican Canyon
Not far from the northern end of the lake a faint discoloration of the water, with a few reeds projecting above
the surface, reveals the location of the so-called "sunken island," where the waters [Pg 390]of the lake shoal
from a great depth, and offer the site upon which, at the southern end of the shoal, Cooper's imagination built
the "Muskrat Castle" of Tom Hutter, at which the terrific struggle with the Indians occurred when Hutter was
killed. At the northern end of the sunken island was the watery grave in which the mother of Judith and Hetty
lay, and which afterward became the grave of Hutter, and finally of Hetty herself.[127]
Across the lake, on its eastern shore, south of Hyde Bay, is Gravelly Point, to which Hutter's lost canoe
drifted, and where Deerslayer killed his first Indian. Farther south is Point Judith, now marked by Kingfisher
Tower, where Deerslayer, returning to the Glimmerglass fifteen years after the events described in the story,
found the stranded wreck of the ark, and saw fluttering from a log a ribbon that had been worn by the lovely
Judith Hutter. Here "he tore away the ribbon and knotted it to the stock of Killdeer, which had been the gift of
the girl herself."

Gravelly Point
Toward the foot of the lake the eastern hills and shore belong to scenes of Leather-Stocking's elder days, as
described in The Pioneers. North of Lakewood Cemetery a climb up the precipitous mountainside leads to
Natty Bumppo's Cave, which, with some poetic license in his treatment [Pg 391]of its dimensions, the novelist
employs as a setting for the final climax of his story. To the platform of rock over the cave, as a refuge from
the forest fire, Leather-Stocking guided Elizabeth Temple and Edwards, and carried the dying Chingachgook.
On this spot, with his glazing eyes fixed upon the western hills, the last of the Mohicans yielded up his spirit.
Here was the scene of Captain Hollister's charge at the head of the Templeton Light Infantry, so swiftly
followed by the revelation of the mystery which the cave concealed.
Not far from the spot upon which the Leather-Stocking[Pg 392] monument now stands, near the main
entrance of Lakewood cemetery, the log hut of Leather-Stocking stood, and afterward, according to the story,
Chingachgook was buried there. Farther southward, the road that branches off to ascend Mount Vision is the
one by which Judge Temple and his daughter approached the village in the opening scene of the story, and it
was during their descent from the upper level of this road that the buck was shot by Edwards and
Leather-Stocking, when Judge Temple's marksmanship had failed. Near the branching of this road a stairway
climbs the mountain, and reaches the pathway of Prospect Rock, where Elizabeth found the old Mohican, and
was trapped by the forest fire. Upon this natural terrace a rustic observatory now stands, which offers a superb
view of the lake and village.

It was on the summit of Mount Vision, overlooking the village, that Elizabeth Temple was faced by a panther
crouching to spring upon her, and had resigned herself to a cruel death, when she heard the quiet voice of old
Leather-Stocking, followed by the crack of the rifle that saved her life, as he said:
"Hist! hist! Stoop lower, gal; your bonnet hides the creatur's head!"
FOOTNOTES:
[120] Pages and Pictures, 301.
[121] Elihu Phinney in Shaw's History of Cooperstown.
[122] Letter to John W. Francis, 1822.
[123] Vol xxix, p. 35.
[124] U.S. National Museum, Bulletin 47, p. 465.
[125] Livermore, History of Cooperstown, p. 133.
[126] G. P. Keese, Harper's Magazine, October, 1885.
[127] For the purpose of the story, as he explains in the preface of The Deerslayer, Cooper places the "sunken
island" farther south, nearly opposite to Hutter's Point, and at a greater distance from the shore than its real
situation.
[Pg 393]
CHAPTER XIX
TWENTIETH CENTURY BEGINNINGS

A man of national reputation made Cooperstown his summer home in 1903, when the Rt. Rev. Dr. Henry C.
Potter, seventh Bishop of New York, who had married Mrs. Alfred Corning Clark, took up his residence at
Fernleigh. In his administration of the most populous diocese in America, Bishop Potter had gained wide
renown as an ecclesiastic; added to which his prominence in civic affairs, and in matters of national
importance, together with a public championship of workingmen's rights at which many wealthy
churchpeople stood aghast, made him one of the most notable figures in American life. He passed his
summers in Cooperstown until his death at Fernleigh in July, 1908, and the near view of his big personality
caused him to be as greatly beloved in the village as he was honored in the city. He entered with zest into the
interests of the village, gave a new impetus to many of its activities, and made friends in all walks of life.
CHAPTER XIX 197

TWENTIETH CENTURY BEGINNINGS 198

A. F. Bradley
Bishop Potter
When Bishop Potter came to dwell in Cooperstown, the village had already made up its mind that he was a
rather austere and distant man, an official person, the quintessence of ecclesiastical [Pg
394]statesmanship,—urbane, but unyielding. He looked the part. Tall, erect, and of splendid figure, his
countenance had the aristocratic beauty of a family noted for its handsome men. The noble head and the
poutingly compressed lips of a wide mouth gave an impression of power, while a slight droop of the left
eyelid, and a thin rim of white around the iris of the eyes, imparted a veiled and filmy coldness to his glance.
The personal dignity of the Bishop, his commanding presence, a certain picturesque magnificence, the rich
and well-modulated voice, the incisiveness of his manner of speech, with the clear-cut value given to every
word and syllable, were characteristics that marked him as a leader of men.
But Cooperstown soon came to realize the lovable traits and real simplicity of its most distinguished resident.
He placed many villagers in his debt by personal acts of kindness, and charmed all by his genial friendliness.
In any company he was the chief source of entertainment. Although he applied himself intensely to official
work during certain hours of every day in the summer, when the hour of relaxation came he laid aside his task.
With all his cares, he was never the grim man forcing himself to be gay. His contribution to the pleasure of a
company was spontaneous and contagious. Not the least highly developed of his qualities was the Bishop's
sense of humor. He was an incomparable raconteur, and many an incident of village life gave him material for
a story which, with certain poetic license of embellishment that he sometimes allowed [Pg 395]himself, set his
hearers in a roar. He was as ready to hear a good story as to tell one, and his ringing laugh was a delight. The
Bishop talked much and well. His use of the pause in speaking, with a momentary compression of the lips
now and then between clauses, heightened the effect of crispness in his felicitously chosen phrases. He was a
good listener if one had anything to say, but he was not averse to presiding in monologue over a number of
people, and often did so, for his fund of talk was so rich that others, in his [Pg 396]presence, were sometimes
slow to offer any contribution of their own. He was most adroit at this sort of entertainment, and had a way of
apparently bringing others of the company into the conversation—usually those who seemed rather shy
and overawed,—without requiring them to utter so much as a word. In the midst of his talk the Bishop
would interject such a remark as, "You will understand me, Mr. So-and-So, when I say"., or "Mrs. Blank, you
will be particularly interested to know"., turning earnestly toward the person addressed. Of course Mr.
So-and-So and Mrs. Blank brightened up at being singled out by the great man, and beamed with pleasure at
having thus contributed to the conversation.

C. A. Schneider
The Rectory
[Pg 397]
In the morning of every week-day, just as the village clock struck nine, the Bishop could be seen issuing from
Fernleigh, whence, after passing the Rectory, he pursued a slow and stately course down the curved path of
the Cooper Grounds to the Clark Estate building, where he had an office on the upper floor at the southwest
corner. On warm summer days, he discarded broadcloth, and was dressed in flannels of spotless white. He
walked with a stick, and there was a slight limp of the left leg, due to an injury received in riding. So strong
and erect was his bearing, however, in spite of his more than three score years and ten, that the slow gait
seemed to be caused rather by preference than necessity, and the limp really appeared to add to the majesty of
his measured pace. Anyone who joined him was obliged to walk as slowly as the Bishop, who never hastened
his steps, but conversed affably; now and then, as some thought struck him forcibly, he paused abruptly in his
walk, and stood still to utter what was in his mind, moving forward again, by way of emphasis, at the end of a
sentence. In these walks through the Cooper Grounds, and about the village, the Bishop assumed acquaintance
with everyone, and frequently stopped to enter into conversation with a neighbor, a passing tourist, or some
workman toiling in a ditch. It was because of his genuine interest in everyone that the village came to regard
Bishop Potter no longer as a distinguished metropolitan, but as a genial neighbor. A stable-boy who at this
period drove the village rector to a country funeral expressed [Pg 398]the sentiment of many when he said: "I
used to think the Bishop was stuck up; but he is really just as common as me or you!"
Bishop Potter took great delight in amusing occurrences in which he shared as he went about the village. In
fact he seemed deliberately to invite them, and afterward described the incidents with contagious merriment.
One day as he was about to enter a car of the trolley road on Main Street, an enormously fat countrywoman
was standing on the platform, bidding farewell to her her friends. She had much to say, and completely
blocked the entrance to the car. After waiting patiently for some moments the Bishop addressed the woman in
his most gracious manner. "Madam," said he, "I don't wish to interfere with your conversation, but if you will
kindly move either one way or the other, so that I may enter the car, I shall be greatly obliged." The woman
glared at him. "Are you the conductor of this car?" she snapped, "Because if you be, you're the sassiest

conductor that ever I see!"
In the late summer of 1904, "Doc" Brady, a lovable old Irish heart, who used to peddle portraits of the Pope,
corn salve, and various trifles, encountered Bishop Potter in front of the Village Library, and invited a
purchase of his wares, which at this time included campaign buttons of Col. Roosevelt and Judge Parker,
attached to packages of chewing-gum. "Here ye are, Bishop," he cried; "Get a button for your favorite
candidate!" The Bishop impartially selected a button of each kind, and pushed the chewing-gum [Pg
399]aside. "Take your goom, Bishop, take your goom," urged Brady, as the Bishop moved away. "No,
certainly not," was the firm reply. But Doc Brady was insistent, and hurrying after the Bishop forced the gum
upon him. "There," said he, "if you don't chew it yourself, take it home to Mrs. Potter!" The Bishop's laugh
rang aloud through the Cooper Grounds as he slowly ascended the path, taking home the chewing-gum to
Fernleigh.
The Bishop usually left his office in the Clark Estate building toward one o'clock, and Mrs. Potter often
walked down to join him on the way home. Sometimes, as she passed the office, she hailed the Bishop, and
conversed with him as he stood at the open window above. On one occasion, when Mrs. Potter had several
ladies as guests, they all chatted with the Bishop through the window on their way to Fernleigh. A moment
later, recalling something that he had neglected to mention, he summoned a gardener who was at work close
at hand, and asked him to request the ladies kindly to step back to the window, as the Bishop had something to
say to them. Shortly afterward, in response to the gardener's summons, there was lined up beneath the window
a happy group of female excursionists carrying lunch-baskets, entire strangers to the Bishop, and in a quite a
flutter of anticipation of what the distinguished prelate might have to communicate. The Bishop was equal to
the situation. He gave them some information concerning points of interest in and about Cooperstown, with
[Pg 400]a brief summary of the history of the Cooper Grounds in which they then stood, and sent them away
rejoicing in knowledge that added greatly to the pleasure of their visit.
A frequent guest at Fernleigh at this time was the Rev. Dr. W. W. Lord, formerly rector of Christ Church, and
for many years one of the most beloved friends of the Clark family. This aged clergyman and poet was a
scholar of the old-fashioned type, well-versed in the elder philosophies, and fond of quoting Greek, Latin, and
Hebrew authors in the original tongues. Dr. Lord admired Bishop Potter, but the two men were of different
schools, and the old priest was inclined to stir up good-humored controversies in which he pitted his
scholasticism against the Bishop's more facile and modern if less profound learning. The New York prelate
entered with great zest into the contest of wits, and let slip no opportunity to score a point on Dr. Lord.
Although usually numbered among the evangelicals, Bishop Potter in his latter years was sympathetic with
certain aspects of Catholic ceremonial. He believed in the enrichment of the services of the Church by light,
color, and symbolism, so far as might be consistent with the law of the Anglican communion in America. Dr.
Lord belonged to the school of churchmanship which abhorred anything beyond the most severe simplicity in
the services of the Church, and had a large contempt for the badges and symbols of ritualism.
On the festival of St. John the Baptist, in 1903, [Pg 401]Bishop Potter and Dr. Lord were the chief figures at a
service held in Christ Church to which the Masonic lodges of Cooperstown and vicinity were invited. Both
the Bishop and Dr. Lord were thirty-third degree Masons. Dr. Lord, because of the infirmities of age, at that
period seldom officiated in church, but for this occasion was to have a place of honor in the chancel, and to
pronounce the benediction. Bishop Potter was to deliver the sermon.
Dr. Lord came early to the sacristy of the church, and, having vested in his long flowing surplice and black
stole, seated himself to await service time. In conversation with the rector, Dr. Lord recalled the days when
more of the clergy were simple in their apparel, and he deplored the tendency to adopt brilliant vestments,
colored stoles, and academic hoods. A hood, said Dr. Lord, echoing the sentiments of a witty English prelate,
was often a falsehood. Any man could wear a red bag dangling down his back, but nothing except sound

scholarship could really make a Doctor of Divinity. For his part, said Dr. Lord, he was content to be a Doctor
of Divinity, by virtue of scholastic learning, without wearing a hood to proclaim it.
At this moment the Bishop appeared, having walked from Fernleigh to the church fully arrayed in his
vestments. He was a resplendent figure. In addition to the episcopal robes of his office, he wore an Oxford
cap, and a hood of flaming crimson, which an expert in such matters would have identified as belonging to
Union College, or Yale, [Pg 402]or Harvard, or Oxford, or Cambridge, or St. Andrew's, all of which
institutions of learning had conferred the doctorate on Bishop Potter.
It still lacked a few moments of service time, and when the Bishop was seated in the bright light of the
sacristy, another feature of decoration in his dress appeared. Depending from a chain about the neck there
glittered upon his breast what the Masons call a "jewel." To the non-Masonic eye it was more than a jewel. It
suggested rather a shooting star, emitting a shower of scintillations from the facets of a hundred jewels. When
the coruscations of this Masonic emblem caught the eye of Dr. Lord, he became uneasy, and began to finger
an imaginary token of rank upon his own breast. "I ought to have a jewel to wear to-night," he said musingly,
and muttered of the splendid jewel that he had forgotten to bring, given to him years before by the Grand
Lodge. By this time the hour of service had come; the aproned Masons had marched to their seats in the nave
of the church, and all available space was thronged by an expectant congregation. Nevertheless Dr. Lord
requested the rector to go forth from the sacristy, and ask the master of the Lodge whether any of the brethren
present had a jewel to lend for the occasion. This was done, but no jewel was forthcoming. The Bishop
seemed absorbed in his own thoughts.
The choir and clergy entered the chancel, and the service began. Dr. Lord had a seat of honor in the sanctuary
at the right of the altar. When evensong was finished, Bishop Potter preached [Pg 403]the sermon, after which
he returned to the sanctuary, and stood at the left of the altar opposite to Dr. Lord. Just before the benediction,
which Dr. Lord was to pronounce, the Bishop caught the rector's eye, and beckoned. When the rector came
near, the Bishop removed the Masonic jewel, with its chain, and handed it to him.
"Put it around the old man's neck," the Bishop whispered.
This was done, and the venerable clergyman, decorated with the flashing symbol, seemed to grow in stature
beyond his usual great height, as he ascended the steps of the altar, where he uplifted his hands, and in an
age-worn but magnificent and sonorous voice pronounced the solemn blessing.
In the early autumn of 1904 the Rt. Hon. and Most Rev. Dr. Randall T. Davidson, Archbishop of Canterbury
and Primate of all England, the first occupant of the chair of St. Augustine to visit America, was a guest at
Fernleigh. The Archbishop and Mrs. Davidson, with the Archbishop's two chaplains, were met at the station
by Bishop Potter together with a delegation of Cooperstown citizens. The first carriage that left the station
contained the English and American bishops; the second carried the two chaplains, escorted by the village
rector. As this carriage left the station, David H. Gregory, the perennial wit of the summer colony, called out,
"Don't forget to show the gentlemen the Indian in the Cooper Grounds."
The chaplains of the Archbishop exchanged [Pg 404]glances of pleased anticipation. What they had heard
suggested that Cooperstown kept a live Indian on view as a symbol of its history and romance, just as Rome
maintains always its pair of wolves at the Capitoline hill. The rector tried in vain to divert their thoughts
toward other objects. When the carriage rolled through the Cooper Grounds the chaplains insisted upon seeing
the Indian. There was nothing to do but to point out J. Q. A. Ward's sculptured Indian which stands in the
midst of the park, a replica of the one in Central Park, New York, and better mounted, altogether a fine work
of art, but—

"Oh, I say," exclaimed one of the chaplains, as they looked at one another in deep disappointment, "Not alive;
not alive!"
During the Archbishop's stay in Cooperstown he attended daily services in Christ Church, and enjoyed
visiting points of interest on the lake and in the village. That a souvenir of the visit might be preserved the
Archbishop and the Bishop were photographed together on the front porch of Fernleigh. Apparently some
prosaic adviser had represented to the Archbishop that his usual costume would make him undesirably
conspicuous in America, for during his tour of this country the Primate of all England abandoned the
picturesque every-day dress of an English bishop, with its knickerbockers and gaiters, in favor of the
international hideousness of pantaloons. At the time of the photograph Bishop Potter was wearing leggings,
having just returned from riding, so that the two bishops appeared to have exchanged costumes.

The Archbishop with Bishop Potter
[Pg 405]
The Archbishop desired not to have anything like a public reception, but it was intimated to a few neighbors
that they would be welcomed at Fernleigh on a certain evening. At this gathering the most regal figure, who,
in the ancient finery of her apparel, wearing a headdress topped with an ostrich plume, may be said to have
eclipsed the most distinguished guests, was Susan Augusta Cooper, granddaughter of the novelist,
representing, as it were, the very foundation of the village. Miss Cooper was one of the most characteristic

survivals of the old régime in Cooperstown. She lived next door to Fernleigh in Byberry Cottage, which had
been built as a home for the two unmarried daughters of the novelist shortly after [Pg 406]the burning of
Otsego Hall, and largely out of material rescued from it, including the oaken doors, the balusters of the
stairway, and two bookcases from Cooper's library which were transferred to the cottage. Susan Augusta
Cooper took up her residence there with her mother and aunts in 1875, and when she died in 1915 had been
the sole occupant of the cottage for many years. She was a type of old-fashioned neighborliness, and made a
specialty of ministration to the needs of sick and poor throughout the village. One frequently met her on some
errand of mercy; the basket on her arm contained good things prepared with her own hands for the needy; the
large and stately figure had grown rather mountainous with advancing years, and the dignity of her slow and
measured pace suggested the steady progress of a ship moving in calm waters. The solemnity of her
countenance, and the grave manner of her carefully chosen words, were lovably familiar to those who knew
her warm and generous heart.
When Miss Cooper's health failed she was obliged to undergo an operation which left her a cripple, unable to
get about except in a wheel-chair propelled by an attendant. Always a faithful communicant of Christ Church,
her disability occasioned what came to be almost a parochial ceremony, for when Miss Cooper made her
communion she was wheeled to the chancel steps, and the priest came forward to administer to her, while the
other communicants respectfully waited until she had withdrawn.
C. A. Schneider
Byberry Cottage as originally built
[Pg 407]
Added to her other infirmities, an affection of the eyes gradually darkened her vision until she became totally
blind. In a condition of helplessness which would seem to make existence unendurable, Miss Cooper found
much to make her happy, and life was sweet to her to the end. She enjoyed the society of friends, and it gave
her keen pleasure, blind and crippled as she was, to be seated in state at large social functions. Such was her
habitual solemnity of manner that few gave her credit for the sense of humor which lightened many of her
dark days. She uttered her jests with so much gravity that they were often taken in earnest. Now and again she

made sport [Pg 408]of her own infirmities. Meeting her one day in her wheel-chair, after her eyesight had
begun to fail, a neighbor inquired for her health. "Quite comfortable," replied Miss Cooper, in solemn tones,
"except for my eyes. They tell me it is a fine day, with beautiful blue sky. The sky is blue, but to my eyes it is
shrunk to the size of a bachelor's-button!" Miss Cooper was very reluctant in consenting to the amputation
which prolonged her life for several years. Even after the surgeons stood ready in the operating-room she for a
time declined to submit to the ordeal. There was a prolonged discussion which resulted at last, on the advice
of friends, in obtaining her consent. The chief surgeon entering the room approached the bedside rubbing his
hands and, grasping at something to say to reassure the patient, remarked in silken tones, "Well, Miss Cooper,
I'm glad to hear that you prefer to have the amputation." The situation seemed desperate, and nerves were at a
high tension among Miss Cooper's friends. "Well, doctor," was her tart rejoinder, "I must say that 'prefer' is
hardly the word that I should use!" With this she gave a chuckle that proved her spirit undaunted, and relieved
the strain.
Miss Cooper had great respect for the clergy, and for a bishop her reverence was unbounded. When Bishop
Potter dedicated the monument at the grave of Leslie Pell-Clarke, in Lakewood Cemetery, a terrific
thunderstorm arose during the ceremonies, and Miss Cooper was taken home in the carriage with the
distinguished prelate to escape the deluge. The various conveyances [Pg 409]plunged down the hillside
post-haste, with lightning crashing on every side. Some of the ladies in the party became hysterical. Miss
Cooper alone was perfectly calm. "With a bishop by my side," she exclaimed, "I am not in the least afraid to
die!"
The Clark Estate Office

In the summer of 1904 Bishop Potter unwittingly acted as the accomplice of a burglar who robbed the safe of
the Clark Estate office in Cooperstown, and escaped with a quantity of jewels. The newspapers estimated the
value of the stolen jewels at from $20,000 to $100,000, and the robbery became a celebrated case in police
annals. The burglary was unusual in [Pg 410]having taken place in broad daylight, with Bishop Potter calmly
at work at his desk on the second floor of the small building. When the clerks left the office for luncheon at
noon they locked the outside door, but did not close the vault in which the papers and valuables were kept. It
was a brilliant summer day, the seventh of July; villagers and tourists were passing and repassing through the
adjacent Cooper Grounds; the clerks were to return within an hour, and in the mean time the Bishop was
there. Nobody dreamed of the possibility of a burglary, but it was the unexpected that happened. When the
vault was to be closed and locked at the end of the day, a tin box containing a casket of jewels was missing. In
the basement of the building the tin box which had contained the jewel-case was found empty, and near by
was a hatchet usually kept in the basement, and with which the box had been pried open.
The news of the robbery caused intense excitement in the community. The village policeman together with the
county sheriff and his deputies met in conference at the Clark Estate office; knots of people gathered upon the
streets in earnest discussion; the village press was busy turning out handbills announcing the robbery and
offering a large reward for the apprehension of the thief; the telegraph wires hummed with messages to the
police of the state and nation. Next morning Pinkerton detectives arrived under the leadership of George S.
Dougherty, afterward deputy police commissioner of the city of New York.
[Pg 411]
The clues discovered by the detectives were not encouraging. In the office nothing appeared beyond the fact
that the box of jewels had been removed from the safe. In the basement the discarded tin box that had
contained the casket of jewels lay upon the floor not far from the hatchet with which it had been opened, and
the only remarkable circumstance was that the floor all about the empty box was bespattered with blood. The
detectives said also that they noticed the frequent appearance of a woman's footprints which were well defined
and seemed to encircle the spot where the empty jewel-box lay.
The blood-stains appeared to offer the most serviceable clue, and to account for them three theories were
suggested. First: The robber had been caught in the act by someone who had disappeared in pursuit, after one
or the other had been wounded in the struggle. Second: There was more than one robber, and there had been a
bloody quarrel over the division of the booty. Third: In opening the tin box containing the jewels the robber
had cut himself either with the hatchet or with the jagged tin. Since the Bishop, who had been in the building
during the robbery, heard no sound of any struggle, the first two theories were abandoned, and the third alone
seemed probable. Advices were accordingly telegraphed to the police of various cities to look out for a man
with a bandaged hand. For several days thereafter suspicious-looking men in remote parts of the country who
had had the misfortune to injure a hand suffered the added misfortune [Pg 412]of being detained by the police;
but nothing came of it.
In order to aid in the recovery of the property, and to make it difficult for the thief to dispose of it, a
description of the stolen jewelry was given out, and summarized as follows: a pearl collar; a diamond
bow-knot with pear-shaped pearl pendant; a ring set with two diamonds and a ruby; a ring set with diamond
and ruby; a small diamond ring; a solitaire diamond ring; a diamond marquise ring; a ring set with two
diamonds crosswise; a diamond bracelet; a diamond and pearl bracelet.
Dougherty the detective had another method of procedure in reserve. He had brought with him to
Cooperstown an album containing photographs of the most noted bank-sneaks and yegg-men. After studying
the "job" at the Clark Estate office he came to the conclusion that it was the work of a professional, and began
to run over in his mind the various crooks who might have planned and carried out a robbery of this particular
sort. Many of these were gradually eliminated for one reason or another, until he had narrowed the field to a

few suspects. Dougherty then began to make inquiries about the village to learn whether anyone had noticed a
stranger loitering in the neighborhood of the Clark Estate offices on the day of the robbery. His search was
rewarded by finding several persons who remembered such a stranger. One of them described the loiterer as a
man about sixty years old, with "pleasant, laughing eyes." Dougherty already [Pg 413]had in mind Billy
Coleman, alias Hoyt, alias Grant, alias Holton, alias Houston, a man with an international police record. He
produced Coleman's photograph, and the likeness was promptly identified as that of the loiterer. Another who
remembered seeing the stranger picked out from the entire gallery of rogues the likeness of Coleman.
Although he had no real evidence against him the detective was now sure of his man, and felt certain that,
somewhere in the mazes of New York City, Coleman and the missing jewels would be found. Returning to
New York, Dougherty roamed the streets of the city, day and night, looking for Coleman. After two weeks of
fruitless search he met one of Coleman's "pals" coming up Eighth Avenue. Acting on the theory that this man
would ultimately get in touch with Coleman, the detective determined to keep him in sight. He shadowed him
all night, following him from haunt to haunt. The next morning, when Coleman's friend retired to a
rooming-house, and asked for a bed, Dougherty put two subordinates on guard, while he himself snatched a
few hours of sleep. The detective proved to be upon the right track, for within thirty-six hours the shadowed
man joined Billy Coleman.
The suspected thief occupied a flat at 271 West 154th Street. From this time Dougherty or one of his deputies
followed every movement of Billy Coleman. Day after day they tracked him through the city from one resort
to another. In the evening they followed him home, and kept a [Pg 414]watchful eye on the premises.
Coleman's actions were provokingly innocent. At nightfall he frequently left home, accompanied by his wife,
but only to take their little dog out for an airing. On a Sunday evening while Dougherty was shadowing
Coleman and his wife, hoping that they might lead him to some clue to the robbery, he was amazed to see
them enter an Episcopal church, where they remained throughout the service. Bishop Potter, to whom
Dougherty had confided his suspicions of Coleman, laughed heartily when the detective mentioned this
incident.
"Surely, Dougherty, you don't want me to believe that one good churchman would rob another, do you?" the
Bishop exclaimed.
Dougherty felt that as the case stood he was making no headway. Coleman, who perhaps realized that he
might be under suspicion, made no false moves. The detective resolved upon another plan of action. He
decided to have Coleman charged with the robbery and arrested, after which he was certain to be released for
lack of evidence. He calculated that an official discharge from any complicity in the stealing of the jewels
would so reassure Coleman that he might afterward betray himself, through lack of caution, to watchful
detectives. Coleman was accordingly arrested, and held for the grand jury in Cooperstown. The case against
him was too weak to stand. The grand jurors were much absorbed in conclusions drawn from the blood-stains
found on the floor of the basement of the Clark Estate [Pg 415]office, and when it was shown that Coleman
bore no sign of scratch or scar they promptly discharged him. Coleman left Cooperstown a free man, and
chatted amicably with Dougherty as they rode together on the train to New York. On reaching the city they
parted company at the Christopher Street elevated station, and Coleman rode on up town to his home, serenely
confident of Dougherty's failure and of his own security.
This was in October. From the moment of his arrival in the city Coleman was shadowed day and night.
Detectives rented a room in a house across the street from Coleman's flat. Whenever he left his home they
cautiously followed him. For a time he seemed to be making tests to learn whether or not he was being
followed. Sometimes he would enter a large department-store, mingle with the crowds, and suddenly find his
way out of a side door into a little-frequented street. But the detectives were equally wily. They adopted
various disguises, and never let him out of their sight. After about two months they observed that Coleman
began to make frequent trips toward Morningside Park. He made always for the same region, where he

appeared to walk aimlessly about, but with his eyes fixed on the ground, as though counting his steps. On the
morning of the third of January, during a heavy snowstorm, Coleman was followed to West 155th Street and
Eighth Avenue, where, in a little open space near an iron-foundry, he scraped aside the snow, and began a
small excavation of the earth. For some reason he failed to find the object of [Pg 416]his search, and returned
home with an air of dejection. One detective shadowed him homeward; the others did not wait for the falling
snow to obliterate the traces of his excavation. They began digging in the same spot on a more generous scale,
and eighteen inches below the surface unearthed a glass fruit-jar. The jar, on being lifted to the light, dazzled
the eyes of the detectives, for it contained the missing jewels, which for six months had lain there in the earth
where thousands of people had daily passed them by.
The detectives, having removed the jewels, placed in the jar a note addressed to Billy Coleman, signed by
Dougherty and his assistants, McDonals and Wade, stating that they had the jewels, and would call upon him
at the earliest opportunity. They reburied the jar, and restored the surroundings to their former condition.
Coleman, as had been foreseen, afterward returned to the spot, and dug up the jar. The detectives were near
enough to witness the wretched man's distress when, on reading the note, he realized that the fortune had
escaped him and that the prison awaited him. He was immediately placed under arrest, and confessed all.
Concerning a few pieces of jewelry that were missing from those found in the jar he gave information that led
to their recovery. Coleman was once more taken to Cooperstown, and, with the additional evidence, was
easily convicted of the robbery.
Coleman was a man of such remarkable intelligence and engaging personality that Bishop Potter, whose near
presence at the time of the [Pg 417]robbery the burglar little suspected, became much interested in him. There
is no doubt that Coleman was really touched by the kindness which Bishop and Mrs. Potter showed to him
and to his wife, and his resolution to reform was quite sincere.
"There is nothing in being a crook," he said. "I am sixty years old, and have been in prison half my life. My
advice to young men is 'Don't steal.'"
At Bishop Potter's request the sentence of the court was lighter than Coleman's record might have warranted,
and he was sent to Auburn prison for six years and five months, a term which discounts for good behaviour
reduced to four years and four months.
Coleman's explanation of the blood-stains which had played so important a part in the various theories of the
robbery was one that nobody had thought to venture. He said that before he opened the jewel-casket in the
basement he really had no idea what it contained, and when he saw the fortune in gems that had come into his
possession his great excitement brought on a nose-bleed.[128] His clothes were so blood-stained that he was
in mortal fear of being arrested on that account, but, as he wore a black suit, the stains were not conspicuous.
As to the woman's footprints, which the detectives said they found, no explanation was ever made.
Ten years later an elderly man was arrested in [Pg 418]New York, charged with robbing a Wells-Fargo
Express wagon on Broadway. With the aid of an umbrella handle he had drawn from the rear of the wagon a
package containing $100,000 in cancelled cheques—not a very successful haul. His age and apparent
harmlessness so much impressed the justices in Special Sessions that he would undoubtedly have been
released on suspended sentence had not a detective who had been engaged in the Clark robbery case passed
his cell in the Tombs. The detective recognized the famous Billy Coleman, whose police record dated back to
1869, showing thirteen arrests and a total period of twenty-eight years in prison.
Bishop Potter's last notable public appearance in Cooperstown was at the Village Centennial Celebration in
August of 1907. He was the most picturesque figure in a scene rich in kaleidoscopic color and historic
significance when, on the Sunday afternoon which began the week's festivities, multitudes listened beneath
the sunlit trees upon the green of the Cooper Grounds, while the Bishop, mantled in an academic gown of

crimson, described his vision of the future of religion in America.
J. B. Slote
The Lyric at Cooper's Grave
The Cooperstown Centennial celebration was remarkable for its great success in calm defiance of the fact that
the year of its observance was not really the centennial of anything worth commemorating in the history of the
village. The psychological moment seemed to have arrived when the people of the village were resolved to
devote themselves to some high effort in praise of [Pg 419]Cooperstown, and so they gloriously celebrated, in
1907, the centennial which a former generation had neglected, and which succeeding generations might
indolently ignore. A disused act of village incorporation passed in 1807 was seized upon as suggesting a
convenient antiquity, but there was no slavish conformity to mere accidents of date, and the whole history of
Cooperstown was included in this elastic centenary. The entire community was united in the desire and effort
to make the celebration a success, and the sticklers for historical propriety became quite as enthusiastic as the
others. The commemoration was planned and carried out on a really dignified scale, with an avoidance of
tawdriness; and the elements of the celebration, with religious, historical, literary exercises, and pageantry,
were well proportioned in their appeal to the mind, to the romantic emotions, and to the love of the
spectacular. Some of the addresses such as that of Brander Matthews on Fenimore Cooper, were valuable
contributions to the literary annals of America. Throngs of spectators were attracted to Cooperstown by the
celebration, and in one day there were at least 15,000 people in the village which included only about 2,500 in

its normal population. The old village and lake offered an effective background to the scenes of carnival.
Natty Bumppo at home in his log cabin, Chingachgook with his canoe, appeared in living representation in the
line of floats that paraded the village to set forth the historic and romantic memories of the place. A chorus of
village schoolgirls dressed in white, and [Pg 420]with flowing hair, presented an exquisite scene at Cooper's
grave in Christ churchyard, bringing their tribute of flowers, and singing the lyric written by Andrew B.
Saxton to the music of Andrew Allez. Otsego Lake offered a superb spectacle in the calm summer night,
reflecting the glare of rockets and the bursting into bloom of aerial gardens of flame. There were moments of
utter darkness suddenly dispelled by dazzling cataracts of fire that made one aware of thousands of pallid
faces thronging the shore, while the effulgence set the waters ablaze from Council Rock to the Sleeping Lion,
and flung a weird splendor upon the forests of the surrounding hills.
[Pg 421]
A lovable patriarch of the village was Samuel M. Shaw, well known throughout the state as editor of the
Freeman's Journal. He had once been an editor of the Argus, in Albany, and became editor and proprietor of
the Freeman's Journal in Cooperstown in 1851. In this position he continued more than half a century, and
had a history almost unique in village journalism. When he began his work Shaw was regarded as an
innovator, for he was one of the first editors in the country to introduce columns of local news and personal
items, a practice which, at a time when newspapers were wholly devoted to politics, speeches, foreign affairs
and literary miscellany, was widely ridiculed. He survived long enough to be regarded as an exemplar of
conservative and old-fashioned journalism, and became the Nestor of Cooperstown. In the office of the
Freeman's Journal, with its clutter of old machinery, piles of grimy books, its floor littered with newspapers,
its wall streaked with cobwebs, the aged editor seemed exactly to fit into the surroundings. Here he received
his friends, for the bed-ridden wife at Carr's Hotel, where he had rooms, was unequal to much social duty. The
printing-office was his kingdom, and here, at the battered desk, he reigned supreme, a benevolent-looking
man, with white beard closely enough trimmed to show a firm mouth, while the bald head shone above the
desk as he bent his eyes closely to the pen in writing, and the left hand occasionally stroked the cluster of
silvery locks that overhung the back of his collar. Late every afternoon he put aside [Pg 422]his pen and
proof-sheets, and with a coat held capewise about his bent shoulders, toddled to the Mohican Club to play
bottle-pool with his old friend, G. Pomeroy Keese. Every Sunday the editor's venerable figure was
conspicuous in a front pew of the Baptist church, in which he was a pillar, and always held up as an example
to the youth of the village.
When Samuel Shaw died, in 1907, occurred a dramatic episode which only a village community can produce.
During his long career Shaw had accumulated a fair amount of property, and in his will had made kindly
bequests to certain friends. Not until his death did it become generally known that his means had been
dissipated by unfortunate speculations in the stock market, which was then in a depressed condition, and that
margins upon which he had made purchases had been wiped out, hastening his death by financial worry, and
leaving his estate almost bankrupt.
At his funeral the Baptist church was crowded by a congregation which represented the tribute of a whole
village to a man who had been a leader in its affairs for more than fifty years. The pastor of the church, the
Rev. Cyrus W. Negus, had not been long in the village, but already was known for his earnestness and
sincerity. To deliver a funeral sermon over the body of so distinguished a member of his church offered an
opportunity to make an impression upon the entire community. He began his sermon with the usual
expressions of Christian faith in the presence of death, and passed to a commendation of Samuel [Pg
423]Shaw's many good deeds in public service and private life during his long career. Then he changed his
tone, and, to the amazement of every hearer, expressed his deep disapproval of the speculations in the stock
market which had brought the veteran editor in sorrow to the grave, and declared that he was unable to indorse
the qualities in the character of a man so prominent in religious and civic life which permitted him to resort to
slippery methods of financial gain. In this respect Samuel Shaw was to be held up not as an example, but as a

warning to the youth of the village.
Never was a congregation more astonished than when the speaker proceeded to develop such a theme in the
face of the mourning friends of the dead. Probably the great majority of the congregation felt that the pastor's
view of the iniquity of such stock speculations was utterly mistaken. Certainly all the friends of the dead
editor were too indignant to realize in that hour that they were witnesses of an unusual exhibition of moral
courage on the part of a preacher. It was some months later, when the Rev. Cyrus W. Negus himself lay dead,
and all the bells of the village rang his requiem, that a friend and admirer of Samuel Shaw could also fairly
recognize the mettle of this preacher who had the pluck to speak out what he believed to be his message, with
every worldly reason to be silent. He had dared to defy the conventions of indiscriminate eulogy at funerals, to
stand practically alone against public opinion, and to turn an opportunity [Pg 424]of winning popular applause
into an occasion for speaking out the necessary truth as he saw it. Some of his best friends felt that he had
blundered, but no one who saw and heard this frail and pale-faced Baptist minister, as he stood by the coffin
of Samuel Shaw uttering the quiet words that fell like lead upon the tense and breathless audience, may
honestly deny his courage.
In some respects the most remarkable man in Cooperstown at this period was Dr. Henry D. Sill. It is perhaps a
singular distinction in a Christian community that Dr. Sill should have been chiefly renowned for being a
Christian. It was not that the Christianity of the village was below the average of Christian communities. It
was rather that Dr. Sill so strikingly personified the Christian virtues as to become a saint among Christians.
By common consent he was put in a class by himself. Christians were exhorted to imitate him, but nobody
was expected really to equal him. He was at this time only forty years old, but was revered not only by the
young, but by the aged, as wise unto salvation. He was the son of Jedediah P. Sill, a respected and influential
business man of Cooperstown, and after graduation at Princeton and at the College of Physicians and
Surgeons, he settled down to practise in his own village. Dr. Sill lived with his sister at "The Maples," in the
spacious house which stands on Chestnut Street, with sculptured lions guarding the doorway, next to the
Methodist parsonage. His office occupied the little wing at the north. Unlike some who pass for
philanthropists in the [Pg 425]outer world, Henry Sill was regarded as a saint in his own household. Mrs.
Robe, the aged aunt who made one of the family, and cultivated the art of growing old beautifully and
gracefully, herself a Unitarian, used always to conclude her frequent arguments against Calvinistic theology
by saying, "Well, Henry wouldn't treat people so, and I believe that God is as good as Henry!"
Dr. Sill was a man of some means, but spent very little on himself. It had been his ambition to be a
missionary, but since circumstances made it impossible to carry out this design, he annually contributed the
entire salary of a foreign missionary whom he called his "substitute." He spent large sums of money in the
improvement of Thanksgiving Hospital, in which he was deeply interested, and the equipment of that
institution, especially of the operating-room, which gave it a rank far above the hospitals in many larger
towns, was chiefly owing to his generosity.
Dr. Sill was a physician, but specialized in surgery, and, while he never developed any spectacular rapidity of
technique, became known as one of the most capable and conscientious surgeons in central New York. He
always told patients what he believed to be the exact truth, and without the untoward results which some
practitioners apprehend from such a policy. A surgeon who prayed with patients just before resorting to the
knife was sometimes rather disconcerting to the irreligious, but his attitude was a comfort to many in the dire
distress of illness, and in all it inspired confidence in the man himself. In many an [Pg 426]isolated farm
house of Otsego the only religious ministrations came with Dr. Sill's medical attendance, and there were
unnumbered cases in which his call to heal the body resulted in the regeneration of a soul.
Where patients were able to pay, Dr. Sill charged a good price for his services, but the fees were adjusted
upon a sliding scale, and the amount of his professional service without pay is incalculable. In this respect he
was not unlike his colleagues in a profession which probably gives more for nothing than any other, but,

having independent means, he was able to go farther in this direction than most practitioners, and he counted
it a pleasure to give away his time and skill without reward.
There was a tinge of Puritanism in Dr. Sill's Christianity which to some minds imported an unnecessary
strictness of view, but none could quarrel with it, for he practised his austerities upon himself, not toward
others. Certain precepts of the Sermon on the Mount usually interpreted in a figurative sense he took literally
as rules of action. "Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away"
was one of these. His literal fidelity to this precept afforded him the deep satisfaction of giving aid to honest
neighbors in distress; it enabled him to come to the rescue in the emergencies which sometimes face the most
industrious and deserving. But also it gave him the pain of learning how many plausible persons are eager to
make fair promises that mean nothing, and [Pg 427]taught him that there are human beings to whom acts of
loving-kindness are as pearls before swine. The honest man in trouble came to Dr. Sill, the drunkard to take
the pledge, the sorrowful to be comforted, the desperate to be advised. But so came also the rogue, and the
wheedling hypocrite, and all such as desired to obtain something for nothing. The doctor had a large
acquaintance among unfortunate outcasts, for he regularly visited the county jail to talk and pray with its
inmates. The extent to which Dr. Sill aided the worthless was a cause of grief to the judicious, but he was not
really, as some supposed, the dupe of impostors. He was well aware of the probably unworthy character of
many to whom he gave assistance, but there was always an element of doubt in such cases, and his theory was
that it was better to aid ninety-nine humbugs than to take the risk of closing the door against one who was
deserving of help.
Dr. Sill was much consulted in relation to the civic and religious welfare of the community. His conscientious
habit of deciding in all things, great and small, upon the absolutely right course of action gave him an air of
slowness and hesitation in manner. He would stand listening intently, without comment, to violent arguments
for and against a project, turning toward each speaker the frank dark eyes that illumined his pale countenance.
When it came to his decision he had a way of planting his right heel forward, and compressing his lips, which
he then opened with a slight smack of determination, giving quiet utterance [Pg 428]to his judgment. It was
usually quite impossible to move him from a decision thus made, and those who misinterpreted the mildness
of his manner soon learned that the man himself was adamant.
The first years of the twentieth century included an era of new buildings. Just above Leatherstocking Falls, in
1908, William E. Guy of St. Louis built and established the beautiful summer home at Leatherstocking Farm.
The remains of the old grist mill at the falls were torn down, and the stones from the foundation were used in
the new building.
In 1910, James Fenimore Cooper of Albany, grandson of the novelist, built Fynmere (the name being an old
form of the word Fenimore) as a country residence. Its site on the hillside above the road that curves about the
southern end of Mount Vision commands a superb view down the Susquehanna Valley, while the eastern
windows of the house look into the heart of the ascending forest. The use of native field stone in the
construction of this house is most effective, and at once gave to the residence, when fresh from the builder's
hands, the air of being long habituated to the spot, and quite in harmony with the antiquities that abound in the
appointments and ornamentation of the place. Within a niche of the main hall of the house is the bust of
Fenimore Cooper which David d'Angers made in Paris in 1828; and embedded in the foundation of the
building is the corner-stone with the original marking that Cooper carved in 1813 for the [Pg 429]house that
he built, but which was burned before he could move into it, at Fenimore. Fynmere has contributed to the
revival of pleasures that belonged to an elder day in Cooperstown, for it has drawn hither large house-parties
of young people to enjoy the holidays of Christmastide, to join in winter sports, and to appreciate the
splendors of snow and ice in a region usually renowned only for the charm of its summer season.
From the beginning of Cooperstown's celebrity as a watering-place the hope was cherished, among the
residents, that the village might include a suitable hotel overlooking the lake, and attracting visitors to linger

on its shores. This dream was realized in 1909 when the O-te-sa-ga opened, having been built by Edward S.
Clark and his brother Stephen C. Clark. The hotel was planned to accommodate three hundred guests, and
occupies the old site of Holt-Averell, commanding a magnificent view of the full length of the lake.
Cooperstown is a village of incomparable charm. There is not the like of it in all America. It has a character of
its own sufficiently distinctive to prevent it from becoming the leech-like community into which, through the
slow commercializing of native self-respect, a summer resort sometimes degenerates, stupidly enduring the
winter in order to batten upon the pleasures of the rich in summer. Cooperstown is old enough and wise
enough to have a juster appreciation of lasting values. It has tradition and atmosphere. It is a village that
rejoices in the simple virtues of life peculiar to a small community, while its fame as [Pg 430]a summer resort
annually brings its residents within reach of far influences and wide horizons.
Cooperstown from Mt. Vision
All lovers of Cooperstown know a favorite summer walk that passes from the village up the hill on the eastern
border of the lake, rises beyond Prospect Rock, winds over a wooded summit, descends, turns westerly
through a shady grove, crosses a farm, then threads a stretch of densest foliage, when suddenly one emerges
upon a clearing, and unexpectedly beholds, glittering far below, the waters of the Glimmerglass, with the
homes and spires of the village gleaming amidst the green leafage of the valley.
It is impossible not to idealize the village when one views it from this height. To the tourist, [Pg 431]who
comes merely to admire, it is a view that possesses the glamour of enchantment. How happy should be the

people who dwell in this peaceful village, surrounded by such charming scenery! How lofty should be their
ideals, and how pure their lives, who abide amid such glories of nature!
But for residents of Cooperstown this view is one that has more than beauty. It grips the heart. As the resident
looks down upon the streets and houses amongst the trees it is with a sympathetic knowledge of the dwellers
there, and of the joys that delight them, of the sorrows that crush them, of the sins that dog them, and of the
hopes that inspire them.
The drama of life has been many times enacted amid the scenes of this village, and here is the prologue and
epilogue of many a romance and tragedy.
Boys and girls are at play in the streets, and are skylarking along the shore of lake and river. Ambitious
youngsters go out into the wider world to seek their fortunes. But there is always a homecoming. Youth has its
day.
There are two aged men from different quarters of the village who daily resort in summer to the Cooper
Grounds, and sit in the sunshine upon the same bench. Either is visibly uneasy until the other arrives. But
together they are happy. On this spot where the history of the village began they take turns at being narrator
and listener, while each relates to the other the story of his life, and describes his triumphs in days that [Pg
432]are gone. They give no heed to passers-by, or to the traffic of neighboring streets. But a village church
bell tolls, and they fall silent, lifting their heads to watch the funeral train as it passes the Cooper Grounds and
winds slowly upward from the main street to the quiet garden by the lake, on the slope of the eastern hills.
FOOTNOTES:
[128] George S. Dougherty, in Chicago Saturday Blade, January 8, 1916.

VILLAGE MAP OF COOPERSTOWN
[Pg 433]
VISITORS' GUIDE
Chief points of interest are indicated on the village map, in the order most convenient for a short tour, by
letters from A to M.
A—Cooper Grounds. Site of Fenimore Cooper's residence.
B—Cooper's grave in Christ churchyard. Christ Church, erected 1807, in which he worshipped.
C—Fernleigh, the Clark residence, where Bishop Potter died.
D—Byberry Cottage, built for the daughters of Fenimore Cooper, 1852.
E—Pomeroy Place, "the old stone house," 1804.
F—Indian Mound, in the northeast corner of Fernleigh-Over.
G—Oldest house in the village, 1790.
H—Edgewater, 1810.
VISITORS' GUIDE 216

I—Council Rock, mentioned in The Deerslayer as the meeting-place of the Indians.
J—Mortar marking site of Clinton's Dam, during the Revolution, 1779.
K—Village Library and Museum.
L—Clark Estate Offices, 1831.
M—Public Boat Landings.
N—Mill Island.
O—Former residence of Justice Nelson, U.S. Supreme Court.
P—Universalist church.
Q—Presbyterian church, 1805.
R—Baptist church.
S—Church of St. Mary, Our Lady of the Lake.
T—Methodist church.
U—Grounds upon which the first game of Base Ball was played.
V—O-te-sa-ga.
W—Riverbrink.
X—Lakelands, 1804.
Y—Woodside, 1829.
Z—Fynmere, 1910.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Story of Cooperstown, by Ralph Birdsall
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The Story of Cooperstown by Birdsall, Ralph, 1871-1918

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The Story of Cooperstown by Birdsall, Ralph, 1871-1918

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THE STORY OF COOPERSTOWN

Rector of Christ Church

With Sixty-eight Illustrations from Photographs

First printing, July, 1917

Printed in the United States of America

THE STORY OF COOPERSTOWN 1

II. The Coming of the White Men 26

III. A Bypath of the Revolution 51

IV. The Beginning of the Settlement 74

V. A Village in the Making 89

VI. Old-Time Love and Religion 109

VII. Homes and Gossip of Other Days 130

VIII. The Pioneer Court Room 150

IX. Father Nash 163

X. The Immortal Natty Bumppo 174

XI. Strange Tales of the Gallows 192

XII. Solid Survivals 211

XIII. The Birthplace of Base Ball 247

XIV. Fenimore Cooper in the Village 258

XV. Mr. Justice Nelson 299

XVI. Christ Churchyard 326

XVII. From Apple Hill to Fernleigh 339

XIX. Twentieth Century Beginnings 393

Village Map and Guide 432

Cooperstown, from the northwest Joseph B. Slote Frontispiece

The Cooper Grounds Arthur J. Telfer 2

Council Rock Arthur J. Telfer 8

The Otsego Iroquois Pipe 13

At Mill Island Charles Frederick 21

Joseph Brant, from the Romney portrait 52

Site of Clinton's Dam A. J. Telfer 71

Otsego Lake, from Cooperstown A. J. Telfer 78

The Oldest House Charles A. Schneider 86

William Cooper, from the Stuart portrait 91

Averell Cottage C. A. Schneider 104

The Worthington Homestead Forrest D. Coleman 110

Christ Church A. J. Telfer 127

The House at Lakelands, as originally built 131

Mrs. Wilson 133

Lakelands C. A. Schneider 137

Ambrose L. Jordan 151

Jordan's Home, and his Law Office C. A. Schneider 156

The Home of Robert Campbell J. B. Slote 158

Father Nash 171

Leatherstocking Monument A. J. Telfer 185

[Pg xii]Natty Bumppo's Cave C. A. Schneider 188

Riverbrink C. A. Schneider 193

Edgewater A. J. Telfer 212

Residence of W. H. Averell and Judge Prentiss C. A. Schneider 221

Woodside Hall Forrest D. Coleman 226

The Gate-Tower at Woodside Walter C. Stokes 228

Swanswick A. J. Telfer 230

Shadow Brook James W. Tucker 233

Hyde Hall A. J. Telfer 238

Hyde Clarke, from the Emmet portrait 243

A Wedding Day at Hyde A. J. Telfer 246

Base Ball on Native Soil A. J. Telfer 249

The Original House at Apple Hill (now Fernleigh) 256

Fenimore A. J. Telfer 259

Otsego Hall, from an old drawing 260

James Fenimore Cooper 263

The Chalet A. J. Telfer 265

A Page of Cooper's Manuscript 269